Merry Me, In Laramie
by Calico West
Summary: It's Jess' first Christmas at the Sherman ranch, but when trouble arises, the entire family's Christmas just might not be a merry one. Merry Christmas everyone!
1. Chapter 1

**Merry Me, In Laramie**

Chapter One

Andy walked into the bedroom, his eyes going up to the calendar on the wall near Jonesy's bed. The early morning light shining through the window wasn't just declaring that it was a new morning, but it was an entirely new month. Andy turned the calendar page over, and with his finger, he tapped the first number twice, sliding across the page and downward until he met with the twenty-fifth, Christmas day. He smiled, the excitement beginning to build inside of his chest at the thought of the upcoming holiday, although he would admit, it didn't give him the same thrill as it had when he was younger, for childhood fantasies had been set aside. Andy's early Christmases were filled with an eager anticipation, when tales about Santa Claus filled his head and every Christmas Eve was spent with one eye open, and ears alert for a jolly voice leading the way, listening for the prancing of reindeer outside the ranch house door.

Andy turned his head as the sound of a familiar voice bantering with his brother crept through the open bedroom door, and his smile broadened. He did have an extra reason for excitement this year, and perhaps that same youthful giddiness would explode in his middle all over again, for Jess was now part of their lives. Last Christmas it was only the three of them, but now, Andy could proudly declare, it would be spent with the four of them. Looking at the inkwell on the nightstand and then back at the calendar, Andy gave a decisive nod to take up one of the older traditions in the Sherman household that hadn't been completed in the last few years. After each day would come to a close, he was going to cross the day off the calendar, showing the diminishing number until Christmas day would dawn.

With a hearty laugh that began in Jess' throat that quickly spread to Slim's and then Jonesy's voice, Andy bounded from the bedroom to see what the lightheartedness was about. He slid to a stop next to his brother, getting an arm wrapped around his shoulders upon his arrival. It was good to feel the strength in that brotherly touch, but Andy also knew he would have received the same feeling through Jess' embrace as well. Andy smiled, the precursor to his own gentle laugh as he watched the three men that meant the world to him joining together in their own level of fun.

"What's so funny?" Andy asked, his eyes going back and forth between Slim and Jess, knowing that whatever the subject was, it had began in one of these two.

"Slim," Jess pointed to the tallest man, "he thinks he's gonna be able to bust that horse out there in one sitting."

"Me?" Slim shook his head, his own finger going toward Jess. "It was you that boasted that you'd tame him down with one touch."

"The only ones that are gonna get busted and tamed is you two," Jonesy said, his laughter diminishing as he patted his backside. "Right here is where that horse will give it, too."

"You talking about Nighthawk?" Andy asked, his grin unable to be concealed as he thought about both Slim and Jess getting bucked from the stallion, multiple times. Slim had recently been approached by a neighbor who was looking to buy a magnificent black horse for his sixteen-year-old son for Christmas, and fortunately for Slim and Jess, they knew exactly where to find one. The only problem was that he was wild, and if there would be any doubt on the subject, their soon to be brutally assaulted backsides would be proof enough of his true nature.

"Yup," Jess answered with a smile, "orneriest critter we've ever had on the place, at least as long as I've been here, that is. But it'll sure pay off when we get him broke, since Mr. Murray's willing to drop a good chunk of cash for his son's Christmas present, so I won't care so much if land hard a coupla times."

"Well you ain't gonna get 'er done if you just stand around here hurrahing about it," Jonesy gave a nod toward the door. "He's out there waiting for you, but don't either of you get dropped on your head. My liniment ain't exactly kind to those sorta wounds."

"Is there anything that your liniment is kind to?" Slim asked, getting a quick shooing out the door as a response from Jonesy.

"I change my mind, Nighthawk can turn you either way, up or down," Jonesy said, hiding his smile, only allowing it to grow once Slim, Jess and Andy were well out the door. It was getting to be too cold for all of his aches and pains to linger outdoors too long for him to watch the riders at work, so after closing the door, Jonesy pushed the curtain aside for a full view of the corral, and whichever man would get upended first.

It took a little while for the horse to be readied and brought to the corral for breaking, but it was Jess who won the coin toss, although he couldn't have lost, for it was a double-headed coin that he'd pulled from his pocket to use. It was also Jess who would get dropped out of the saddle first. His body pitched violently as every hoof left the ground, spinning in wide circles before Jess was launched into the air, his body meeting the ground with painful force as the horse continued a wild springing leap even after he had released his back of his unwanted occupant.

"You all right, Jess?" Slim asked, jumping over the corral fence in one leap.

"Yeah," Jess staggered as he stood up, placing a hand on the back of his head, although he could have put one on his backside, for both places hurt equally as bad. "Dad-gum. He liked to have thrown me all the way to the North Pole if the ground hadn't caught me first."

"Wouldn't have been so bad," Slim joked, the smile playing around on his lips, "you could've then asked Santa Claus for a nice plush pillow to sit on for Christmas."

"You're quite the character, Slim," Jess pointed to Nighthawk, "why don't you put some of that vinegar in your veins in action where it can really show instead of just through your flapping jaw."

"All right," Slim nodded, his grin fading the closer he walked toward the fiery stallion that pawed the ground.

"Be careful Slim," Andy cautioned from his position on the top rail of the corral. He had held his breath when Jess had landed, and now that Slim was going to get in the saddle, he started pulling a deep draft of air into his lungs before his brother would even mount.

"I will," Slim said softly, reaching a hand out to the horse's nose. "Easy now, fellow, you're not so mean, are you? Good boy, now let me in the saddle. See, that's not so bad. Pick your own pace. Uh-huh, like that. Noooo, not… like … that!" Slim's body was being bucked mercilessly, his hands barely able to keep hold of the reins. With one zigzagging pattern complete across the corral, Slim went airborne, his landing done with a hard flop as he rolled from his back to his stomach, a deep groan coming from his mouth with a rush of air that needed to be exhaled.

"You sure told him," Jess failed at his attempt at holding in his laughter, reaching a hand out to help Slim to his feet. "But I think he told you more."

"You hurt, Slim?" Andy asked, wanting to run to his brother's side but knowing that he couldn't, not until Nighthawk wasn't standing so close by.

"I'm all right, Andy," Slim nodded, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, patting out some of the dirt that had smudged into his fabric, "just a little jarred."

"Wanna try again?" Jess asked, looking at the tightly knit brows on Slim's face.

"You bet," Slim grinned and Jess' teeth showed just as wide, like two young boys that wanted to get back on a homemade sled to slide down the steepest, snow-covered slope they could find, even after crashing.

It was a back and forth battle, Jess and Slim getting back in the saddle, the horse seeming to do an equal amount of laughing as he spent tossing. Every time they went down, Andy would wince, expecting hat either man wouldn't be able to rise from the ground, but Slim and Jess always found their feet underneath them again. When Jess was slung over the entire corral fence, just missing the water trough, Slim clapped his hand on Jess' back, a clear indication that the day of breaking, man – not horse, was over.

"We'll get him," Slim nodded, downing the dipper of water that Andy offered. "But we better do it before the snow starts flying. It might be sunny today, but the cold's coming. I could say like Jonesy that I feel it in my bones, but I'd be lying since my aches are only from that ornery animal there, but I have a feeling it's about to turn real cold, real quick."

"You know Wyoming winters better than me," Jess looked up at the sky, the brilliant blue deceiving to the eye. If he were back in Texas, a sky so blue would mean a relaxing day with shirtsleeves rolled up and a droplet of sweat on his brow. "I reckon you might be right, though. Mose said the other day that we were just biding time before the wind starts blowing. Seems like I can smell it coming."

"The only thing I smell is that manure you were rolled in," Slim pointed at Jess' leg, where the brown stain was clearly visible.

"You ain't exactly a clean piece of laundry, either," Jess answered with a smirk, as Slim craned his head to look over his shoulder at the dirt that clung everywhere.

"Come on, Andy," Jess put his hand on Andy's shoulder, "you can help me put this sidewinder in his stall. Just steer clear if he starts acting up."

"I will," Andy said, following closely behind Jess' even strides into the barn.

Satisfied that neither man needed immediate medicinal attention, Jonesy let the curtain drop back in place and with a rub of his hands together, he walked to the piano. Sitting down, his eyes went to a sheet of paper in front of him that had lines of words written on it, some crossed out, some underlined, some boldly scrawled, but all that had come from the inside of his head. He'd began work on the new tune the evening before, but the musician inside of him knew he needed to continue while the lyrics still stirred around inside his mind. He began tinkling the keys, his head nodding along at its smooth beat, enjoying the feel underneath his fingers as much as the noise that filled his ears. Pausing his fingers on the keys, Jonesy's eyes looked up at the nothingness of the ceiling, the light twinkling inside his brown hues as a new thought came to him, a hand then coming up to write down another word or two. Smiling, Jonesy put the tune back into the piano, the notes serenading from the front room all the way outside, where Slim's feet were walking toward the house, creating a smile on the rancher's face as he entered.

"What're you doing, Jonesy?" Slim asked, his body naturally going toward the fireplace where the warmth would soothe his stinging backend.

"Working on a new song," Jonesy replied, the pencil being pulled out from behind his ear as he shook his head and crossed out another line. "Wanna hear a bit of it? Mind you, it's far from finished."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Good," Jonesy stretched his fingers and then wiggled them above the keys. "I was kinda afraid you'd say no." Jonesy's fingers found the notes he was looking for, and turning his ear to the sound that came from the piano to make sure it had the right tone, he cleared his throat and began. "Merry, me, merry me, way out in Laramie…"

"Jonesy," Slim interrupted, his hand held out to show Jonesy that he wanted him to stop. "Isn't that the same song you've been singing since summertime?"

"Yes and no," Jonesy nodded. "Same musical arrangement, different lyrics."

"But I just distinctly heard the same words," Slim pointed at the piano, his voice speaking the words, not repeating Jonesy's lyrical melody. "Marry me, marry me, way out in Laramie."

"Well, considering you didn't let me get very far, you don't have much to go on," Jonesy said, giving Slim a sly smile. "And for your information, Mr. Smarty-Britches, there's more than one 'marry' in our vocabulary. Marry as in take me down the aisle, Mary, such as your ma's name, and merry, as in 'Merry Christmas', which in this case, that's the one I'm using. It means I'm happy."

"Oh, I see," Slim nodded, rubbing the edge of his nose to conceal his widening grin.

"Since you're being so particular, I'll change the lyrics just for you," Jonesy scratched off two words and wrote two different ones in their place. "I suppose the tune can stand to have one more syllable thrown in."

"Why not?" Slim shrugged, although not knowing much about music, he couldn't give much of an honest reply.

"Can I continue then?" Jonesy asked, his fingers already pressing down on the piano keys to not allow Slim an opportunity to decline. "Merry me, merry me, it's Christmas in Laramie, the countryside's covered in snow, I'll give you a present and you'll give me one too, all tied with a pretty bow, oh – and that's as far as I've gone. But you can guarantee by Christmas it'll be complete."

"Well, with today only being the first you've definitely got time," Slim said, walking back to the fireplace to add a couple of logs to the flames. "Christmas is sure going to be different this year."

"Because of Jess?" Jonesy asked, not turning his head to look at Slim, but keeping his eye on the words that he'd written.

"Yeah," Slim nodded, staring into the fireplace's rich, radiating glow. "It's been just the three of us for so long without much change except for maybe the color of socks we give each other. I can tell that Andy's excited about having Jess here for the big day. I guess I'm looking forward to it, too."

"You can add me in on that too," Jonesy admitted with a smile. "Think of all the Christmas treats I can bake up and try out on him. I think that boy'll eat most anything."

"Don't give him that rock-like stuff you make that nearly breaks a man's tooth off," Slim said, standing up slowly as the aches from being bucked off were already settling in too many different places. "We want him to feel welcomed, remember?"

"Huh?" Jonesy barely asked, his eyes mostly on the song inside of his head. "Yeah, sure."

"Other than the major hint I've been getting about Andy wanting a pair of boots like Jess has, has Andy asked you for anything?"

"Nothing except those boots," Jonesy smiled, slightly shaking his head, seeing the catalog opened to the side by side pages of boots on display. "The boy's always growing, though, so a new jacket could find itself under the tree."

"I'm not sure what I'm going to get Jess," Slim looked out through the window to make sure Jess wasn't on his way in. "But I know I want it to be something special, you know, to help him fit in with the family more. He's done so much for us, though, so I'd like it to be more than just a shirt for him to put another hole through."

"You'll think of something," Jonesy answered, finally turning his head away from the piano. "And I'm sure whatever you'll come up with will be just right, since it's coming from the heart."

"I don't think Jess has much money stored up since he started working here," Slim said, still looking out the window, knowing that he needed to hurry his discussion for Jess and Andy had just emerged from the barn. "I know he'll want to give presents, too. I think a split down the middle with Nighthawk's sale will make a difference. What about you?"

"Looked to me like he was getting bounced around just as much as you were out there," Jonesy replied with a nod. "I'm sure half is good and fair. And much appreciated."

"Shh," Slim quickly stepped away from the window, his finger to his lips. "He's coming."

"He won't hear nothing outta me," Jonesy smiled, turning back to the piano as Jess stepped through the door, "except my song. Hey, Jess, Andy, wanna hear the tune I'm working on, at least the beginning part?" Without waiting for a reply, Jonesy put his fingers back to work, his voice joining in with the notes a moment later, creating a slight foot tapping out of Jess' toes, and grins to be shared from each face in the room.

That night, standing in front of the calendar, Andy crossed off his first date, and now there were only twenty-three days until Christmas.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

It wasn't long before the melody bursting from the piano and a joyful set of lungs soon mingled with another noise outdoors. The sun was still a daily presence, but a northerly wind with an intense ferocity brought a bone-chilling cold to settle over the Wyoming Territory. Everything would soon become frozen, hands needing to break the ice on the water troughs first thing in the morning, only to do it again a few hours later. Adding a teakettle of boiling water to what Slim had just broken, he lifted his eyes to the barn door that swung open, leading to the corral as Jess led Nighthawk through, saddled and readied to ride, although this time, there was no timidity when Jess hopped onto his back.

"I'm glad we got him broke before this wind hit," Slim called, the need to raise his voice to be heard over the constant whoosh of the bitter wind.

"Who woulda thought that he's the same animal that tried to make us grow wings?" Jess laughed, riding the animal in calm, easy strides around the edge of the corral.

"Bird wings or angel wings?" Andy asked, a playful smile at the corner of his mouth as he leaned against one of the corral fence posts, hugging his arms tight to his chest as the cold nearly bit through his entire set of heavy layers.

"Since we're in the middle of Christmastime, I'll say angel, but any other time of the year, I reckon he woulda tried making a buzzard outta me," Jess said as he dismounted and then draped the reins over the top rung of the corral, "or as it's probably more truthful, just plain old buzzard bait."

"I'll take the nighthawk, like he's named after," Slim said, his hand reaching up to rub Nighthawk on the nose. "Except I think he did more flying than I did. I just did a lot of crash landing."

"You and me both," Jess rubbed at the sore spot on his hind end that reemerged after being in the saddle again. "I'm gonna kinda miss him, though."

"Like you'll miss that pain in the seat of your pants?" Slim asked, gesturing with his finger toward the hand that was now tentatively pulling back to Jess' side.

"Nah," Jess shook his head. "He ain't so bad now that he knows what a saddle and rider are for. He's gonna make a good mount."

"Well, we still have some time to work with him," Slim said, giving Nighthawk a gentle pat alongside his neck. "Mr. Murray's not going to pick him up until the last few days before Christmas so it won't ruin his son's surprise."

"Nice pa, Mr. Murray is, giving his son a present like Nighthawk," Jess said, his mind beginning to wander back to his youth. What was the most he'd ever received underneath their sparsely decorated tree? A shirt, a pair of socks, and a stick of peppermint, but not one at its entire length, but one that had been broken to share with his siblings. He would have never even dreamed of receiving something as grand as a horse. "Wanna turn on him, Slim?"

"Sure," Slim climbed over the top of the corral and took position in the saddle, noticing that he, too, still had some sore spots in his most tender areas. "I'll give him a couple of circles and then put him up for the day."

With a nod, Jess pulled his arms tight to his chest, letting his hands rub up toward each shoulder, trying to create even a small spark of warmth. If any existed at all, it only would remain for a moment, as Jess reached for a pail of tools near his foot, ready to tighten a hinge that was starting to pull loose from the gate from the constant battering by the wind. Andy watched Jess for a moment, and then as curiosity began to tickle him, Andy stepped over to where Jess worked, setting his feet on the bottom rung of the gate so his height was closer to Jess'.

"What do you want for Christmas, Jess?" Andy asked, the question bringing an instant pause to Jess' hands.

"I dunno," Jess shrugged, the question catching him a bit off guard, he rushed his answer through his lips. "I ain't thought about it none."

"How come?" Andy pointed down at Jess' boots. "I've been asking for a pair of boots like you've got since you first came here. I hope Slim's got the hint, all right."

Jess looked down at his feet and stuck a foot out, examining with his eyes their details. They didn't look that special to him, in fact, they were scuffed, dirty and long overdue for a polishing. "I'll tell you what, Andy, you grow your feet a few more inches and you can have them."

"Thanks," Andy placed his gaze on Jess' boots as well, not viewing the imperfections that Jess could see, "but I'll take my chances on Slim getting my hint."

"He likely has," Jess encouraged, giving Andy a quick pat on the shoulder, "Slim ain't so hardheaded that he can't figure out a genuine plea when it's right in front of him."

"So now that you know what I'd like for Christmas," Andy pulled his coat collar closer to his neck before tightening the mittens on his hands, "that takes us back to my original question. What do you want for Christmas?"

"To be honest, Andy," Jess said, his voice softening as he avoided Andy's innocent eyes. "No one's asked me that question in a long, long time. I ain't thought about anything such as presents at Christmastime, 'cause I haven't really celebrated it in all those years either."

"Oh," Andy's head dropped, a tear smarting in his eyes that he pretended had come from the bitter wind as he remembered anew the tragedy that Jess' family had endured. He had experienced his own losses when they first buried his pa and then all too soon after, his ma, but Andy was able to carry on and still enjoy the celebrations that occurred throughout the year with Slim and Jonesy by his side. Jess had no one, until now.

"It's not so bad," Jess shrugged, although if the truth would have come out of his lips, it might not have sounded the same. "You get used to being alone so that when a day like Christmas comes around, it doesn't bother you so much."

"You're glad that you're joining us, aren't you?" Andy asked with a slight tentative mark in his voice.

"Sure," Jess answered, the honesty in his voice easy to hear, even as he shrugged his shoulders again. "It's just that having Christmas with a family again is gonna be kinda new to me. I ain't so sure I'm gonna know all what to do."

"There isn't much too it," Andy said, taking a step closer to Jess. "We'll decorate a tree and wrap presents, sing some songs, although this year we should sound better since Jonesy has a piano to lead us with. There'll be candy to eat and stories to tell. The Bible will get opened and we'll remember why we celebrate. But all of those things that we do every year aren't really what makes Christmas special. Just being a part of it all, being with the family, is enough."

"You're growing up, Andy," Jess put his hand on the back of Andy's neck, "but you ain't just doing it in size, but you're also wizening up in knowledge."

"Enough that I won't have to go off to school next year?"

"That's a discussion for you and Slim to have," Jess said, giving a quick point to the man that was now exiting the barn.

"I suppose," Andy said with a sigh, following Slim with his eyes as his brother's long strides took him to the feed shed and then when he was out of sight, Andy turned his eyes back to Jess. "So, do you know what you'd like for Christmas?"

Jess shook his head. What would he ask for? Was there even any real need in his life anymore to send out a request for someone to fulfill? All the time that he was on the drift, there was never a genuine thought about wanting a home, but now he had one. He'd thought he'd outgrown the need for a family to care for, as the farther his steps took him into manhood that emptiness had faded over time, but now he had a family to cherish. What would he ask for? Perhaps nothing, for Jess knew he already had everything.

"Nothing?" Andy continued his prompt.

"I'll tell you this, Andy," Jess smiled, the truth shining in his blue eyes, "just being here is gonna be present enough."

"And I'll tell you Jess, this is going to be the best Christmas yet, because you're here."

If the shivering wind was going to whip strong enough to take a man's breath away, it was at that moment. It nearly screeched as Andy turned his back to its fierceness, giving Jess reason enough to just allow a smile to touch his lips, as a proper response couldn't have been formed on his lips even if he could have found the right words to say. He draped an arm around Andy's shoulder and walked him into the house, where the boy would soon find adequate warmth, but for Jess, it would have to come later. It might have been well below freezing, but there was still work to be done. At least for awhile Jess could get a slight respite, for the forge would get fired up, and his body could absorb its heat sheltered alongside the barn.

Hammering a piece of the wagon to be fitted to its undersides, it wasn't long before Jess' frame was drawn to stillness again, and it wasn't because of the hot iron that he accidently dropped on his foot. There was smarting pain, but that was ignored when his boot was all that his vision could see and Andy's desired Christmas present whistled into his ear with the wind. Presents. Slim, Andy and Jonesy were more than deserving of a gift from his hand. They'd been an important piece of his heart from their first meeting. He couldn't just offer an empty box to show how significant his feelings actually were. But what could he buy with nothing?

Jess shook his head, his fingers slipping to his pocket to feel the small amount of coins that were there, and one of them wasn't even real currency. The amount was definitely not enough to buy a proper present for any of them, and there wasn't much more to add from his stash in the bedroom. Jess had never been one to have a significant amount of money at any one time. If there ever was a wad of bills in his pocket, they had come from sitting around a poker table for an unheard of amount of hours, or acquiring the pay from means that he wasn't all too proud of anymore. But even when those occasions had risen, he never was able to revel in the cash for long, as it always seemed to depart even quicker than it had come. Now that life, with its untold dollar signs being given to him for the use of his gun seemed so very far away. And very unimportant.

Life had changed abruptly when he'd arrived at the Sherman ranch. At the time he'd been nearly broke, pilfered of his poker winnings by his so-called friend Pete Morgan, the intent on returning to the drift when he had finally settled with the man who had taken up partnering with Bud Carlin. But he'd never expected to have someone else on his side when the outlaw was encountered, and he didn't ride away when the dust had settled, as it was his being that did the most settling. Unlike some of the jobs before this, Jess' wallet didn't get padded by working alongside Slim, and he never expected it to be. A much shorter pay hadn't bothered him, for the family had more worth than anything Slim could pay him, but now his nearly empty pockets caused an actual pain to form in his chest. Jess knew that he couldn't ask Slim for more, for they'd been balancing on very little since autumn had begun and were waiting for Nighthawk's payment to come in to feel money's comforting hold again.

Money close at hand or not, Jess didn't expect anything with his name on it, for as he'd told Andy, having the Sherman home and family to share was enough. Especially since some of his recent Christmases were less than ideal. His last Christmas was spent huddled in a cave during a blizzard, never really knowing which day had been what, as the four days that he had stayed hidden were all lumped together in one pile of snow, but he had known the loneliness. The same sense of longing and emptiness that had existed since he was fifteen-years-old. But that pain in the heart that came from the constant quiet solitude would be no more. This Christmas he belonged.

Jess heard the words and saw the beaming expression on Andy's face all over again, the words echoing in his own heart with as much sincerity as they had come from Andy's mouth, only changed to be more fitting coming through his own lips, even if it was only the wind that pushed against his frame would hear him. "I'll tell you something, this is going to be the best Christmas yet, because I'm here."

That night, Andy stood at the calendar with a wide grin on his face, he crossed out the sixth, and now there were only eighteen days until Christmas.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Hey," Jonesy gave Slim's hand a light tap with the wooden spoon he was holding. "Did I say you could sample?"

"No," Slim dodged Jonesy's second tap and grabbed a piece of candy from the plate, and then another swipe in the pot that hadn't yet been turned into its proper shape. "But I will anyway."

"If Slim gets a bite, I do too," Andy said, racing into the kitchen to stand next to his brother over the kitchen stove where the various candies bubbled, exploding in an intoxicating aroma of sugary sweetness that no young boy, or overgrown boy, could resist.

"All right, all right," Jonesy conceded, faking a disgruntled frown, "have a bite or two. Just don't go and devour it all in one sitting. This has got to last until Christmas day, you know. It's only Saturday and it's, oh, I don't know how far we are until the big day, but still plenty enough that I've gotta warn you to be good."

"It always does," Slim smiled, as the tasting part of the candy making was just as traditional as the making of them.

"In here, Jess," Andy spoke around the fingers that were in his mouth when Jess came in through the front door, as his bite had still been a little too warm although the extra tingle wasn't minded, for the gooey sugar on his fingertips was just as tasty as what was being shaped into balls in Jonesy's hands. "We're sampling some of Jonesy's treats."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Jess said, pulling off the gloves from his hands, the chill from his outermost layer felt by the other three bodies that were huddled near the kitchen stove. "The way I feel though, I just might take the whole batch. It's so blamed cold out there I coulda froze into a statue if I hadn't kept my feet moving."

"Have some of these caramel creams, Jess," Jonesy, said, offering him the piece from his hand. "Will perk you up right quick."

"Dad-gum, that sure hits the spot," Jess savored the sweetness, letting his tongue find the tip of each of his fingers and the outer rim of his lips lest he miss even the smallest drip. "Stock's bedded down all right, Slim."

"Good, thanks for going out there, Jess," Slim smiled, reaching for another taste, but was only able to get the tip of his finger in the pot before Jess' hand slipped beside his and swiped the glistening corner of melted sugar that Slim had aimed for. "You're sure quick on the draw."

"Pays to practice," Jess grinned, putting his now cleaned fingers to rest on the edge of his gun.

"All right, you've all had a lick or two," Jonesy ushered with his hands for the three of them to leave the kitchen. "Now, shoo. Let me do the rest of my mixing or I just might forget who all this is for."

"Aw, Jonesy," Andy whined, although the two men beside him could have echoed their own reply.

"Scoot," Jonesy said, a frown hiding the true smile that he really felt inside.

Jess sat down in his favorite rocker by the fire as Slim added a couple of logs to the flames, the warmth wrapping around Jess' body enough that not even his toes felt cold anymore. He put his head back, his eyes drifting closed where he'd nod off a few minutes later when the soothing sound of Slim's calm, steady voice began a story of Christmases past, where the most special gift was one that came in telling form, about a new baby that was on its way. That baby would grow into the listening boy that was seated at Slim's feet with eyes wide opened, absorbing every word.

"I remember that Christmas well," Jonesy said, the candy now complete, his body leaned against the support beam that separated the kitchen and living rooms. "Your ma was all aglow, her secret kept even from your pa to be shared on Christmas morn. Bless her heart. Special memories. Well, Slim, Jess is already out, so you two best be on your way to bed, too. I'll be in shortly after I warm my long johns and socks by the fire."

He'd fallen asleep before Jonesy entered the room in his warmed up underclothes, snug down deep in his own layers of warmth. In the deepest and longest hours of the night, Slim rolled over in bed, the chilly air that created a shiver throughout his body being the suspect of why he'd awakened. He pulled the blanket tighter to his neck, wondering if he needed to add another log to the fire instead, but didn't want to retreat out from underneath his covers. Slim closed his eyes, but only for a moment longer could he stay in the warmth of his bed, for there was no mistaking the crunch on the ice outdoors, made by a horse's hooves. Slipping his feet to the floor, Slim grabbed the rifle and leaned toward the window, grateful that there was enough moonlight in the bitter, starry sky to show him the level of alarm that the noise had brought.

"Jess," Slim called, his hand already on the doorknob, even though all he wore was his long johns. "Get out here, quick!"

A rifle blast followed Slim's shout, and his body ducked down as a pair of bullets returned in his direction, followed by the sound of multiple hooves beginning to run up the road. Jess' frame quickly filled the doorway, staying upright despite Slim's low-leveled position, his gun firing at the two retreating figures on horseback as they kicked their mounts into a rapid run. A guttural cry pierced the night air, evidence enough that either Slim or Jess' bullet struck flesh, but wasn't enough to drop a body to the ground. When there was nothing else to see but sparkling ice crystals on every surface, they both ran to the barn, Slim going inside while Jess stood outside, gun ready in case their unwelcomed visitor's suddenly made a hasty return.

"What'd they take, Slim?" Jess asked when Slim's shivering frame exited the barn.

"Nighthawk," Slim's reply was solemn, his eyes following the frozen trail that the horse thieves had taken.

"Dad-gum," Jess said under his breath, the anger rising enough in his chest that his breaths became more rapid, creating a thick cloud to surround him. "Of all the horses in the barn, why'd they go and have to take that one?"

"I don't know," Slim said with grim determination, his feet ready to turn back inside the barn. "But I'm going after them."

"I'm with you, Pard," Jess said with a nod. He slid his gun back in its holster, as the belt had never left his hips at bedtime since he'd fallen asleep fully clothed in the chair by the fire.

"Not like that you're not," Jonesy walked up behind them, shaking a finger at Slim as Andy watched from the porch wrapped in a blanket, "you out here in nothing but long johns, why you'll catch yourself a death before you even get halfway up the road!"

Slim looked down at his front, the anger pumping so strongly inside of his veins that he hadn't even realized that he wasn't dressed. After telling Jess to get their mounts ready, Slim went inside, putting on every single layer that Jonesy threw his way, but even underneath the heavy attire, Slim still shivered. Shoving his hands into gloves, Slim hurried out of the house, the night air seeming to shed the clothes from his back as the wind still somehow reached his skin. He pushed aside the warning that Jonesy had given, already feeling an irritating scratchiness in his throat and then mounted, motioning with his hand to Jess that they'd start out westward, as the small splatters of blood on the ground were the only indication of the direction that they'd gone.

No one with any sense should have been out on a night as brutal as that one was, but outlaws had never been accused of having that kind of smarts circulating in their minds. Even with the plummeting temperatures, the two men that wouldn't allow the outlaws to get away with their blatant thievery couldn't let the starkness of the air stop them from venturing out in it either. Jess kept his horse slightly ahead of Slim's, searching everywhere for anything that would have indicated that they were on the right path. The blood had stopped not long after they'd first spotted it, and now Jess could only offer a decent guess on which direction to keep going on, but at least he was using a mind that had once known the ins and outs of being on the run. But after an hour of riding into an icy world of nothingness, Jess wasn't even certain anymore that he'd chosen the correct path and he pulled his horse to a stop.

"The ground's too frozen to show tracks," Jess dropped out of the saddle, his eyes going back and forth over the entire roadway that was in front of them. When the blankness of the ground remained the same in every direction, he shifted his gaze to the sky, seeing the bright moon above them. If it hadn't been at its full brightness, they wouldn't have even made it that far. "You wanna head back yet?"

"No," Slim said sharply, his eyes looking straight ahead of him, but exactly for what, Jess couldn't tell. "We can't give up, Jess. Mr. Murray was going to give us a hundred dollars for that horse. We can't lose that sale. If you've had enough though, you can go back."

"I'm sticking with you Slim, no matter what," Jess answered and then pulled his glove onto his hand tighter with his teeth. "Just wish we'd donned a bear's coat or two before we'd set out though."

"It's so cold, they couldn't be traveling very fast," Slim turned his head northerly, as he knew a small trail was just around the bend, but it would be too difficult to traverse at night in the frosty conditions. If the outlaws had come this way, they likely would have avoided it too. "Maybe they've holed up somewhere."

"If they have, they're just as cold as if they were moving," Jess took a deep breath of the wintry air. "I ain't smelling any trace of campfire smoke."

"If they're moving, then that's what we'll do too," Slim turned his horse back onto the roadway, knowing that there wasn't a precise direction to head, but he wasn't ready to admit defeat, yet. "Let's check the cave behind the falls."

If they weren't familiar with the layout of the land, they would have never known when the falls were within hearing distance, for not a drop of water was making it to the pool below them before turning into ice. The sight, with the moonlight illuminating everything in bright silver, would have been considered stunningly beautiful, but neither Slim nor Jess was there to appreciate nature's touch. Both feet on the ground, they walked slowly and cautiously to the opening of the cave, but when a startled family of raccoons darted past them as they entered, there was little thought that the thieves had made the cave any part of a hideout. With matches aglow, they walked to the back of the cave, its emptiness the same hollowness that resided in the pit of each man's stomach.

The cave behind then, with his rifle in hand, the butt pointing to the ground, Jess struck the ice until liquid began to pool up, the horses dipping their noses in soon after. Daylight now on the horizon, there would be the advantage of the sun's return, but they already knew it would bring little warmth, only clearer visibility. But as the sunlight that barely brought a rise in the temperature fully lit the land, there wasn't anything more to see than in the darkest hours. Jess walked ahead of his tired mount, knowing what he'd find as he did his duty of searching with his eyes ahead of them, as not a trace of a track or a single drop of blood was anywhere on the ground.

"Slim," Jess said, looking up into his friend's shadowed eyes, afraid to say it, but knowing that he had to, "it's no use. We ain't gonna find them. Not like this."

"I know you're right, Jess," Slim dropped his head, the rim of his hat covering his eyes so that Jess could no longer see the emotions that sparked there. "But when I think of what Nighthawk was going to bring us, Christmas presents, food, supplies, not to mention the satisfaction that we felt by gentling him, I just don't want to quit."

"I don't wanna quit either, Slim," Jess answered, taking a step closer to Slim's mount and started rubbing a gloved hand up and down his nose. "But we both know we've gotta take care of our own horses soon. I reckon we've come as far as we're gonna get for now."

"All right, Jess," Slim gave a short nod, not a shred of hope sounding in his voice, but a low, almost tight tone coming from his throat. "Let's go home."

There was just as much searching during the return with Jess' vision as there had been setting out, the main difference wasn't the switching of the orbs in the sky, but the defeated feeling that surrounded them. It was difficult to return home without bringing back what they'd set out to recover. It was even worse when they entered the barn and one of the stalls wouldn't be filled. Their breath showing even inside the barn, Slim and Jess spoke very little as they tended their mounts, and then with a final pat to Jess' faithful companion, their ice-cold feet took the short span to the house.

"Find him?" Jonesy asked, but the silence that came from Slim as he walked alone into the bedroom was answer enough. "I guess he's not up to coffee," Jonesy looked at Jess as he held the pot up in his hand. "What about you?"

"I'll take a cup, or maybe four or five," Jess said, peeling the scarf away from his throat. "Even with the sun shining, it's mighty sharp out there."

"Wind cut right through me when I went out to feed the stock," Jonesy said, pouring the fragrant brew into a cup. "See anything at all out there?"

"No," Jess shook his head, dropping his gloves onto the table. "Ground's too frozen to imprint a track. All I could tell from them lighting outta here was that they headed west."

"That's too bad," Jonesy shook his head slowly, returning the coffee pot to the stove.

"I know we hit one of them," Jess said as he sat down at the table. Taking the cup of coffee, he enjoyed the warmth of the cup in his hands before bringing the blistering liquid up to his lips. "But he musta been able to stop the bleeding right away, 'cause there wasn't any blood to follow. Dad-gum, I sure wished I woulda been able to down him, if it was my bullet that hit him, that is. Slim and I were firing so rapidly we couldn't tell who actually hit him."

"Well, that's something to go on anyway," Jonesy said, sliding into the chair across from Jess. "Maybe Doc Hanson'll hear of somebody that's been gunshot."

"Maybe," Jess said, trying to stop the yawn from following but couldn't suppress it. He took a swallow of coffee to try to prevent another one from forming.

"Why don't you try to get some sleep," Jonesy suggested, but watched as Jess quickly declined with the back and forth movement of his head.

"Got too much to do," Jess replied, downing the rest of the cup of coffee even though it nearly burned going all the way down. "I wanna get back out there this afternoon after the chores are done. Sun ain't gonna make it any warmer, but you never know, they might be out there sneaking around thinking we've plumb given up."

"Well, be careful out there," Jonesy said with an extra layer of caution lining his voice, "if you find them, they're not gonna say 'howdy' without doing so with a gun first."

"That's strange," Jess said, standing up, shoving his hands back in his gloves, his own voice edged in grit. "That's how I was planning on greeting them, too."

But he would see no one. There seemed to be not a single soul that was brazen enough to face the bitterness of the afternoon air except for a stubborn man in search for a stolen horse. He returned at dusk, his shivering legs taking him directly to the fireplace where Slim was sitting in front of the roaring blaze, a blanket tucked around him. Jess thought it strange to see Slim in such a position, but until his mind could get thawed, he couldn't process much of what might have been going on while he'd been out.

"You don't have to keep searching, Jess," Slim said with a low voice, pulling the blanket on his lap tighter around his legs. "We just have to face it. Nighthawk's gone."

"Let me look one more day," Jess said, searching Slim's face and saw more than defeat there. He looked tired, but Jess was too, continuing his pursuit without much rest, yet there was a difference in the shadows underneath Slim's eyes. It only intensified the thought that had been pumping through Jess' veins with every heartbeat since the search began. He had to find that horse for Slim. "I ain't beat in this, not yet, anyway. You and I hit west and north, today I covered the east, and now I wanna try the south. If there's a sign of them somewhere out there, I'm gonna find it."

"Thanks, Jess, I appreciate it." Slim sniffed louder than usual, and Jess stole a glance at Jonesy, whose eyes were focused entirely on Slim, and the slight flush of color touching his cheeks.

Jess was out before the sun fully came up, his determination to find Nighthawk beginning to turn into anger. It wasn't long into the day before he didn't need the extra scarf that Jonesy had handed him when he went out the door, for his blood began to boil the further he went along, as there was nothing to find. The reality was directly in front of him. Nighthawk was never going to be found. Jess slammed his fist into his thigh, the hand being so cold that he didn't even feel the pain that otherwise would have been there.

It wasn't right. They'd worked so hard with Nighthawk, breaking him, training him, getting him to trust them enough that he'd make the perfect mount for a boy growing into a man. But for what? They'd bruised their every limb, visible parts and non-visible alike, just for someone else to come in and take the horse that was so full of promise away from them. Jess dropped his head, the defeat that had captured Slim was now fully surrounding him. He was done, but Jess knew he couldn't take his horse home just yet. His last stop was to the Murray's, and the difficult discussion that had to come, telling the man that they didn't have the promised horse for Christmas after all.

"Slim in bed?" Jess asked when he came in after the sun had disappeared for the day, craning his head slightly toward the bedroom door to see if he could see Slim's frame laid out on his bunk.

"Yeah," Jonesy nodded, his voice spoken in a whisper, showing that Slim wasn't just in bed, but asleep. "If you ask me, I'd say he's coming down with a wallopper."

"Could be," Jess looked back at the partly ajar bedroom door. "He ain't been acting his usual self, but I was hoping it was just the disappointment in losing Nighthawk."

"I'm afraid it's both," Jonesy said as Jess took the chair closest to the fire, "and each one's doing a number on him."

"Dad-gum," Jess muttered under his breath as a balled up fist hit squarely into his palm. There was more sensation in his fingers now than when his hand had reacted similarly while out in the frozen air, but even though pain shot through both hands, Jess didn't even try to shake it away, for what he felt couldn't begin to match the furious emotion that brought a deep pain over his entire body. Anger was powerful, especially when it was fueled by something that he couldn't do anything to change. It was Christmas, life had just taken an unexpected upheaval, and now Slim was sick, all because a couple of horse thieves decided they'd drop onto the Sherman ranch and help themselves to the most expensive animal in the barn. Jess didn't want to know how he'd react if he could get the chance to lay his hands on one of them.

That night standing by the calendar, Andy couldn't help but look over his shoulder at Slim when a louder than usual snore came from his mouth, knowing that his brother was ill and that was only a small part of the trouble that had settled over the ranch. With a gentle sigh, he turned back to the calendar and crossed off the day's date, and now there were only ten days until Christmas.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Hearing Slim's rattling cough as soon as Jess raised his head from his pillow brought the rush of anger back through his veins as if it hadn't stilled even slightly while he'd been sleeping. Jonesy was already up, filling the coffeepot with tea instead of coffee, adding whatever herbs he had stashed in the back cupboard for such an occasion as having a congested, irritable family member in need of some form of relief. Jess saddled up not long after he'd polished off his breakfast plate, but for an entirely different quest than how he had spent the two previous days being in the saddle. The icy ride to town did little to stifle the constant heat in his pulse as his feet took him to Doctor Hanson's office.

"Be right with you, Jess," Doc Hanson said, looking up from tightening a bandage on his patient as Jess walked into the doctor's office. "Just finishing up in here."

"No hurry, Doc," Jess answered, stepping closer to the glowing potbellied stove. "I'll enjoy every minute that you linger."

"I hear you," Doc Hanson laughed lightly. "Someone at the ranch sick?"

"Yeah, Slim is. He's coughing and sneezing, and I reckon has a fever to go with it," Jess answered, rubbing his hands in front of the stove. "He sent me in to see if you've got something for his cough since Slim won't touch the stuff that Jonesy mixed up for him."

"Don't blame him," Doc Hanson smiled, and then turned his full attention back to the patient in front of him. "All right, Gary, I think that'll do. It doesn't look like it's infecting, but you'll need to keep your arm in a sling for at least another day or two. If it bothers you any further, come see me."

"Thanks Doc," Gary stood up from his chair and stepped out of the exam room. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing today," Doc Hanson shook his head. "You took care of it enough the other day when you came in with that hole in your shoulder."

Having his back to the conversation in the other room, Jess suddenly turned, his eyes latching onto the patient with his arm in a sling. Whoever this Gary was, Jess had never met him before, but from putting the pieces of sentences that he'd heard between the two together, and the image that he created with an injured shoulder, Jess' suspicions were aroused. He followed Gary out of the doctor's office with his eyes, trying to see if he matched a shadowy figure in the frozen night air that took a bullet from a gun that had tried to stop a no-good horse thief. Most men would, as shadows only depicted certain aspects, but Jess' eyes measured the man to create an eerily similar image during the nighttime hours.

"What'd you treat him for?" Jess asked, the coolness in his voice easily delivered in a colder manner than the air that had swirled in through the door that Gary had gone through. "And before you spout off about that being privileged knowledge only for the doctor and patient, don't even bother. I wanna know. Right now."

"Well, I guess it's no secret. Others know," Doc Hanson answered, his eyes intently on Jess' sudden stiffening. "He was shot."

"When?" The question was fired as quickly as Jess could have drawn his gun.

"A few days ago," Doc Hanson replied, not understanding the darts that were suddenly flying from Jess' eyes, his voice slowing as he gave the date as if he knew the ominous storm that was about to blow with its telling. "Saturday night."

Jess was out the door before the doctor had even finished speaking, his feet beginning in a run to catch up with Gary, the probable horse thief. He didn't have to shout or pull his gun to make the man stop, for Jess' thudding footsteps on the sidewalk were enough to turn the man's head to view Jess. The anger that emanated from his being was enough to make Gary suddenly fear, for whatever had set him off, it appeared that he was Jess' one and only target. And Gary didn't want any part of it. With Jess breathing down his neck, however, he had no choice.

"What's wrong?" Gary asked, his eyes widening at the sight of the fuming man in front of him, uncertain even after he asked if he wanted to know the answer.

"You made a big mistake," Jess said, his teeth set as tight as his jaw as he brought two fingers up in the air. "I reckon I shoulda said two. The first was you stealing that horse outta Slim's barn, and the second, was being dumb enough to come to Laramie to get that bullet dug from your skin."

"What are you trying to say?" Gary asked, wanting to bolt, but knew that he couldn't. He'd never met Jess Harper personally, but he was well aware of his reputation with a gun, and if he began to flee, he just might find out first hand that the tales of Jess' accuracy were more than true. Gary already knew the sting of a bullet, but somehow he figured that one from Jess' gun would be even more violent, or perhaps it would best be considered as fatal.

"Didn't I make it plain?" Jess took a step closer to Gary, his hands reaching out to clutch the man by his coat collar. His hands became like a vice, and he didn't give a single thought that he had the power in them to choke the man to death.

"I… I have no idea what… what you're talking about," Gary stuttered, not from the intense air that would have made any person shiver, but from fear of the strong man that had him in his grip.

"I'm talking about the horse that you stole outta Slim Sherman's barn the other night! You took a bullet outta one of our guns when we tried to stop you. There ain't no point denying it," Jess ripped one hand off of the coat collar and tapped his finger near Gary's wound, each jab intensifying in firmness. "You've got the mark of it right there!"

"I've… I've never stepped foot on Sherman property. Honest!"

"You're lying!" Jess shouted, making the man cower even further as he regained his two-handed tight clutch. "I wanna know what you did with that horse!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Talk!" Jess shook Gary, starting to pull him down the street, "or so help me I'll drag you to the nearest water trough and crash your body through its solid block of ice!"

"Please," Gary's voice took on a note of begging. "You're hurting me!"

"You'll hurt more than this if you don't start telling the truth," Jess seethed, the fuel burning so strongly inside of him that he didn't feel cold anymore, "I guarantee it."

"Stop," Gary tried to free himself by falling to the ground, but Jess only hauled him up again. "You've got the wrong man. Let me go!"

"Sure," Jess let a grin curl up the corners of his mouth. "I'll let you go. Face first into the ice! Do you know how much that horse meant to Slim?"

"I… I don't… know."

"A hundred dollars! And that's only the pocketbook side, 'cause there's a lot more down inside of that man where that horse was concerned." Jess stopped near the trough that bordered the livery stable, satisfied that the water was indeed frozen. "You wanna tell me how much you got for him or does your nose wanna go skating?"

"Please," Gary shook his head rapidly, starting to holler as Jess picked him up, ready to slam him into the ice. "I'm… not… guil…guilty!"

"I've had enough of your lying mouth," Jess slammed Gary into the ice, the noise as his body hit evidence that there was still an ample amount of liquid underneath the top layer of solidified water. "Talk straight or so help me I'm gonna push the rest of you down under to freeze!"

"Jess Harper!" Sheriff Mort Cory's voice was enough to break a chunk of the ice itself, but it didn't cut through Jess' anger. It took the lawman's hands to pry Jess' fingers loose from Gary's collar before the fiery blue eyes were no longer on his victim, but now stared straight into Mort's face. "What's wrong with you? Are you trying to kill him?"

"I'm trying to make him talk," Jess said sharply, his breath coming in rapid bursts of fog from his mouth as Gary crawled free from the trough. "I woulda got him to admit to stealing Slim's horse if you hadn't pulled my hands off him."

"If he was going to admit anything, it was only to try to save his skin from the likes of you," Mort said, looking down at the blood that began to pool at Gary's wound site as the shivering man panted on the ground. "Better get on up to Doc Hanson's again, Boy, you're going to need some patching up."

"Mort," Jess began, ready to lunge at Gary's rapidly retreating frame but was stopped by the lawman's own strong grip. "What do you think you're doing? You're letting that stinking horse thief go?"

"If Gary Ellis really was a horse thief, he'd be behind bars," Mort gave Jess the sternest look he could muster. "But the only person who deserves to be there is you."

"What are you saying, Mort?" Jess growled the words through his tightly clenched jaw. His hands were equally as tight along his side.

"Gary was shot by his kid brother," Mort explained, still keeping his hands up to stop Jess from trailing after the young man who'd just slipped inside of the doctor's office. "It seems they found the gun their father was planning on giving Henry for Christmas, and when the boy tried to practice his draw, the gun went off and Gary was hit in the shoulder."

"And you believe that?" Jess stared at Mort in disbelief.

"I do," Mort replied quickly. "I have no reason to not. Both Henry and Gary admitted to their pa what happened, and Mr. Ellis told me."

"Then he wasn't out at Slim's ranch Saturday night, helping himself to Nighthawk," Jess reached a hand up to his head, finding that his hat had come off somewhere during the skirmish to the water trough.

"No."

"Dad-gum."

"You could say that again," Mort let the deep sigh that he felt in his chest be expelled slowly, knowing what would be coming next. He reached a hand out to Jess and clamped it firmly on his arm. "I'm sorry, Jess, but I've got no choice. I can't look the other way this time. You're under arrest for assaulting Gary Ellis."

"Dad-gum," it was repeated as Mort had suggested, but it came out with much more despair edging Jess' voice than the first time. "I've sure made a mess of things."

"I won't argue with you," Mort said, motioning with his head toward the jailhouse. "Come on, the stove's bursting with heat. You'll be comfortable enough."

"If one can find any comfort in being behind bars," Jess said under his breath, walking in front of Mort to the Sheriff's office, his feet entering for the first time not as a visitor, not as a friend, but as a prisoner.

"I'll take your gun belt," Mort said with his hand held out, waiting for the weight of Jess' belt to be placed in it. When it came, Mort draped the belt over his shoulder and pointed to the cell doors. "Now, inside. I know I don't have to show you the way."

"How long you gonna keep me?" Jess asked when the barred door clanked closed. For some reason, the key turning in the lock sounded extra ominous, or perhaps it was just the lonesomeness that was already seeping into his being. Would he be forced to stay in jail through Christmas day?

"I can't go too soft on you Jess, but the best I probably can do is a week or twenty dollars."

"Twenty," Jess breathed the amount out of his lips, shaking his head back and forth as he backed up and sat down on the cot that would be his bed. "Dad-gum. It's gonna be one long, lousy week. At least you'll let me out before Christmas."

"I'm no Scrooge," Mort said softly, keeping his brown eyes on Jess' frame. The man certainly could change his emotions quickly. One moment he was hotter than the July sun, and now he was as low as the bottom layer of dust on the floor. "I can't say, however, how Gary Ellis, not to mention his pa and brother, will take what you've done. They might have a little less heart than I do. I'll try to smooth things over the best I can with Gary when I tell him your side of things. An apology might help though, and the fee coming out of your pocket to whatever Doctor Hanson had to do to fix what you might've broken out there."

"Sure," Jess put his hands inside of his pockets and turned them inside out. "I would if there was something in there to give. But I'm empty."

"I'll see how much it is," Mort said, giving an understanding nod. He knew the dire situation at the Sherman ranch, as his own heart had bled at their significant financial loss at the worst possible time of the year. "You can always pay me back sometime."

"Next Christmas sound all right?" Jess asked sarcastically, his backside finding the bunk that would be his closest companion for the next seven days. He folded his arms across his chest, as there was still a chill seeping in from somewhere even though the barred window was tightly covered and looked around. It wasn't comfortable, it wasn't friendly, and it wasn't pleasant to look at, but it was now home.

Mort tossed him a couple of extra blankets before settling in for the night, and although Jess wrapped himself in them, the added warmth wasn't enough to ease him off to slumber. He stayed awake, feeling the clutch of Gary's coat collar in his grasp all over again while Jess repeated in his mind the fire that had come from his mouth as he'd threatened the innocent man. What had he been thinking? It didn't take much to answer his own musings, for the response had been on the tip of his tongue for the past few days, although he didn't utter it aloud. He'd been thinking nearly constantly about the men that had taken Nighthawk. And then when a man that was hit by a bullet on the very same night was in his sight, he quickly put that man in his firm, retaliating hands. For Slim. But Jess had been wrong. So wrong that now he was spending the heart of the Christmas season in jail.

The normal hours of wakefulness proved to be just as long and hard to endure as the slow moving ones spent in darkness. And then after only twenty minutes of solitaire, the solitude was enough to make Jess shower the entire cell with the unwanted deck of cards. It was sometime close to the noon hour when he heard the sheriff's office door open and close, and Jess would have fully ignored the conversation coming from the other room, except that he heard Slim's voice coming from the other side. It would only be a few moments until the all too familiar steps were coming in his direction.

"Slim," Jess barely lifted his eyes when his partner walked into the jail room. "Feeling better?"

"Some," Slim answered with a slight nod, although his nose was reddened both from the wintry conditions and excessive use from his handkerchief during his cold ride into Laramie. "You all right?"

"Yeah," Jess stood, his steps slowly taking him to the bars to be directly in front of Slim, but he still couldn't completely look him in the eye. Words wouldn't come easy, even if they weren't separated by the iron door, especially because of what he'd done. "As well as a man can be behind bars, that is. It's warm, and the food is decent, so I reckon I can't complain."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Slim said, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "But I thought maybe you'd rather like to come on home. It's warm and the food is decent there too, but the atmosphere is a whole lot nicer."

"What?" Jess wrapped his hands around the bars, only then looking up to the depths of Slim's blue eyes, knowing that Slim was doing the same in return to his sparkling hues.

"Don't you want to go home?"

"Well, sure," Jess shrugged, not understanding what he was seeing in Slim's face. He looked exaggeratedly innocent, as if he were holding in a secret. "But I can't until the week's up, and I certainly don't got the… oh no, Slim, you can't. It's twenty dollars."

"I'm well aware of the cost," Slim said, nodding, as an ember of fire began in Jess' eyes, "because I already paid it."

"No, Slim, you didn't."

"Yes, Jess. I did." It had seemed staggering at the time the message had been relayed to him on the evening stagecoach, but the price of Jess' friendship was much higher and Slim didn't hesitate from gathering every dollar he could and ride to Laramie when the new morning dawned. He knew why Jess had pummeled Gary Ellis, and even though he'd been wrong in doing so, Jess had done it for him. That was nothing he could forget, and nothing that needed to be forgiven. It was an example for friendship, and Slim wanted to give his own example of the same friendship, although in a much different way. Slim pulled the keys for Jess' cell out of his coat pocket that Mort had handed him when he paid the fine and stuck it in the lock, turning the key that brought the door to swing open wide to release Jess from its confines. Yet, Jess didn't budge when the bars no longer separated him from the outside world. "Aren't you coming out?"

"I probably could talk Mort into giving back your money," Jess said, his feet frozen to his position on the jail cell's floor.

"Maybe," Slim looked over his shoulder where he knew Mort was sitting behind his desk with Jess' jail fine held in his hand. "But I wouldn't take it."

"Slim, it's too much to give."

"You let me be the judge of that."

"You getting more stubborn or am I getting less obstinate?" Jess asked, eyebrow raised as he took that first slow step out of his jail cell. He wasn't about to admit the feeling of relief that it brought as he became a free man, but not far behind was the constant nudge that Slim couldn't afford his bail, yet paid it anyway. Just as Slim was still learning the depths that was Jess Harper, Jess was still learning the depths that was Slim Sherman.

"Could be," Slim put an arm around Jess' shoulder as they walked side by side to Mort's desk where Jess was returned his gun belt and a gentle warning that Mort didn't want to have him as a houseguest again anytime soon. "Let's go home, Jess."

That night, standing in front of the calendar, feeling a more complete emotion in his chest now that Jess was back in his own bed instead of on a lonely jail cot in Laramie, Andy crossed out another date and now there were only eight days until Christmas.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Jess sat on his bed, pulling an extra woolen sock over his foot and up to his knee before wiggling back into his boots as his toes wouldn't be able to take any time outdoors without the added layer. With wood to chop, Jess stood, his arms going into his heaviest coat, he took a step toward the doorway and stopped, for Slim and Jonesy were deep in talk, the subject line mostly sensitive. Money. Knowing that he shouldn't eavesdrop when the conversation was centered around personal finances, Jess started to turn, but the look on Slim's face sent a chill down his spine, and it had nothing to do with the somewhere near zero temperature that was just on the other side of the wall. He took one step backward, where the bedroom door could conceal him and he listened to every word, and with each one, the internal parts of his body began to freeze, and then break into multiple, jagged pieces like the ice in the trough had exploded that morning from the axe in his hands. What had he done?

"How bad is it, Slim?" Jonesy asked, trying not to look over Slim's shoulder at the figures on the piece of paper, but wanting to know its meager details.

"Pretty bleak," Slim answered with a sigh. "We were really counting on the money from Nighthawk's sale, but without it, and add in some extra, unexpected expenses these past few months, we're flat broke."

"What about the money in the cookie jar?" Jonesy asked, already taking a step toward the kitchen.

"I used it to bail Jess out of jail," Slim said, holding a hand up to stop Jonesy from taking the lid off of the cookie jar to look anyway.

"I know you weren't about to let Jess sit in that jail all alone, and I don't blame you for bailing him out, but Slim, that was the last of our money."

"I know," Slim answered, finding it difficult to keep the notes of concern out of his voice. Jess was important to him, more than feeling the security of a couple of dollars inside of his pocket. But it was hard to express into words the heart of the matter when every last cent of their money was gone.

"Bad time of the year to be stone broke," Jonesy sighed, thinking about presents that would have been bought and wrapped that now wouldn't get even looked at through a store window.

"It's rough that this has all happened right now before Christmas," Slim said, needing to pause for a necessary use of his handkerchief, "but there's always going to be lean times. It's been a difficult year. Drought, then too much rain, cattle prices dropping so low that we didn't bother to take them to market, outlaws visiting and..."

"And Jess?" Jonesy chuckled slightly, completely unaware that Jess was listening just a short distance away.

"Well, sure," Slim shrugged, his eyes naturally going back to the paper below him, seeing the numbers adding in more frequency after Jess' hiring. "I've never had a real ranch hand on the payroll before, so there was no way to set aside money for his salary. And yes, you don't have to say it, I know it's been more than just his pay that's affected our expenses. No one can put a price tag on trouble."

"That's for sure," Jonesy smiled, a gesture that Jess couldn't see, and it was formed in admiration, not animosity, "and that boy sure knows how to get in it, doesn't he?"

Jess stepped away from the bedroom door and sat down on his bunk, his hands going up to fold underneath his chin. He'd heard enough. Even more so, he'd done enough. And done in a way with too many dollar signs. He should have known that Slim couldn't afford his salary when he'd agreed to try ranching alongside of his now best friend, let alone all of the extra expenses that had come upon him by Jess' own doing, both directly and indirectly. He'd cost Slim in more ways that money, but at least he hadn't yet cost him in the most ultimate sacrifice, his life. Yet.

"You and I can acquire a pile now and then too," Slim said, but it would come too late as it went unheard, unable to wrap around a troubled man's soul in the bedroom. "Remember when you were laid up with your back last March? Doc Hanson ended up cutting the bill short, but we had to pay close to fifteen dollars by the time it was all said and done. I nearly chopped my foot off in January and that set us back awhile. Andy went and fell in love with JoJo; you know I never did tell him how much I had to pay for that dog. So you see, it hasn't been just Jess, it's been all of us. We went down together, but we'll rise back up together too."

"Yeah, I just hope it's sooner than later," Jonesy said, seating himself at the table next to Slim. "Got anything we can sell?"

"Huh?" Slim looked up, seeing the twinkling in the corners of Jonesy's eyes, he added a sparkle to his own. "Oh, not that I can think of. Only if you think someone will pay for all those sugary concoctions you've been putting away in the kitchen."

"Not likely," Jonesy shook his head. "All the mothers out there are probably busy in their own kitchens dishing out candy right and left and doing it in a might prettier way when doing so, too. Both the sweets and the ladies, mind you."

"You do find a way of making hard times seem less dark," Slim smiled, leaning back in his chair, the numbers on the paper under his hand seeming less important. "We'll be all right, Jonesy. We're together. Aside from the sniffles in my nose, we're healthy and we've got food to put on the table every night. We might not have much to offer each other this Christmas, but we're still blessed. And no one can put a price on that."

"So right," Jonesy said, looking over his shoulder as he heard the crunch of feet on frozen ground as Andy was approaching the kitchen door. "I best get some scraps out. I'll bet he's got that raccoon of his draped over his shoulder, both of them hungry. Yup, what'd I tell you? Like a stole around his neck."

"Good way to stay warm," Slim said with a wink as Andy walked in with Sam snuggly attached to him.

"Got anything for Sam to eat?" Andy asked, hardly able to see around the thick fur of the animal close to his face.

"Just getting it out," Jonesy said, opening the bottom cupboard where the bucket of food scraps was kept.

"Thanks," Andy said, adjusting Sam's weight to his left side as he turned his head toward the living room. "Where's Jess? He's supposed to be helping me bring the wood in. Jess?"

"Coming, Andy," Jess swiftly exited the bedroom, unable to look at anyone in the room except for the raccoon as he grabbed his hat and went outside, his strong muscles attacking the firewood as if he were taking the axe to his heart.

That night, long after everyone else was sound asleep, Jess laid awake. The darkness of the room pressed firmly into his chest, matching the dark, desolate emotion that resided there, his thoughts on nothing but the monetary conversation that he still turned over and over in his mind. Jonesy and Slim were right. He had cost them a substantial amount, not just in the cost that it took to post bail, but throughout his entire stay at the ranch. The frequency of his troubles and how it took not just him, but Slim away from the ranch was too high. Every single time that they were shorthanded was money out of Slim's pocket. Another mistake made, another challenge faced, and another problem to arise was another dollar gone. Too many had dwindled away because of something that Jess had done and he never once replaced any of it.

And now his temper ended up putting him in jail. It was the last straw, the last nail, and the very last cent. Jess scowled, even though there was no one else that could have noticed its presence. He should have known better than to pummel that kid in Laramie, but he couldn't go backward and change anything. But he could go forward and change something. He couldn't put money back in Slim's pocket, but he could lessen the blow in the future by not allowing Slim to pay for another one of his problems again. He could leave, and find something that would pay more than what he had inadvertently taken, and send it to make up for the overwhelming financial trouble Slim had now found himself in, a situation that would have never existed if he had never stayed at the ranch in the first place.

The middle of the night was no place for it, but even if it was, Jess didn't want to argue with himself, otherwise, his more sensible half might have painted a pretty good scenario why running was no answer, not for him, not for Slim, or anyone else. But he didn't open that side of himself, only allowing the emotions that sat front and center in his mind to reign. Burdened sorrows brought to be by his unyielding gun hand. It didn't look any brighter in the morning light, either, even with the sun still shining brilliantly on the frozen earth.

Rolling his meager wardrobe into his bedroll, Jess turned his head as the piano tinkled out a familiar melody and Jonesy's voice soon joined with its seasonal lyrics. He shook his head, tying the ends together to secure his belongings and a sigh quickly followed from his lips. This was supposed to have been a Christmas worth remembering, one to look back on in years ahead with fondness, but its significance would no longer be that of merriment. Jonesy's song was meant for someone else, someone that didn't carry a mark of turmoil with him wherever he went and he wouldn't pretend that a merry me, was a merry Jess. He could leave, and deep down in his soul his decision was already made. He would leave, but it wouldn't make him feel any better to do so. But if it would help Slim instead of continuing to hurt him, then leave the only life he'd come to care about in his adult years would be Jess' next and final step at the ranch. The wait to mount up dwindled into early afternoon, and Jess watched with a tight lump in his throat when Slim and Andy loaded a box of bread, eggs, butter and sugar among a few other simple necessities for a neighboring family that had less to share at Christmas than they did. Their departure meant that it was time for his.

Maybe he should have waited to say goodbye, but that word was too permanent. Too empty. Too painful. Jess walked out of the house, saddlebags in one hand and his bedroll in the other, his feet taking determined, yet saddened steps toward the barn where his horse was already saddled and ready to ride. The weather wasn't fit for lengthy travel, but its shrieking chills seemed fit for the mood that surrounded Jess' every movement. The wind blew fiercely, its moaning noise rushing over every stationary object, making them creak and groan under the pressure. But not everything could stand up to its constant force.

He looked up just in time to see it. The wind slammed into the barn, making the entire building seem to rock back and forth, but it was only the door that shook violently as its hinges were bent beyond recognition. There was no direction to turn for safety, for there was no returning after so much damage had been done above him. The door cracked loudly as it released from its once secured position and Jess barely was able to raise an arm for protection, but it could do little against a fierce velocity. Struck in the head, across his shoulders and down his back, Jess dropped to the ground, meeting complete, painless darkness as soon as his head struck the frozen earth.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Dad-gum," Jess groaned, waking with more than a headache, but one that was felt in his neck, that added a pain all the way down his back and somehow, seared back upward again. He was in his bed, with blankets piled high up to his neck, and Jonesy was hovering over him. "What happened?"

"Wind blew a mite too strong and knocked the door of the barn clear off," Jonesy explained, wringing out a cloth in a basin by Jess' bedside. "I found you out cold underneath it."

"Oh," Jess put a hand to his head, but had it promptly removed by Jonesy as he placed the damp cloth on his forehead. "I reckon I kinda remember now." He remembered too much, and now the pain wasn't just reserved for his outer hurts, but settled in his core once more.

"Where were you headed, Boy?" Jonesy asked, giving Jess one of those looks that said that he better not deny it, but it would get ignored anyway.

"Huh?" Jess tried to sit up, but was pushed back down onto the bed by Jonesy's hands. "What are you talking about?"

"You were lighting out of here," Jonesy pointed to Jess' gear sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. "Why?"

"You shouldn't have to ask," Jess sighed, sinking his head farther into the pillow that was underneath him, the reason of his departure as real as the pain that hammered in his temples. "You were the one talking about it yesterday. It was yesterday, wasn't it? How long have I been out?"

"Just a few hours," Jonesy replied, his mind already going backward to the previous day when he and Slim had been discussing their monetary woes. He should have known that someone was listening, for he'd had an itchy feeling on his neck from the moment Slim first opened his mouth on the subject. And depending on all that Jess had heard, a heavy responsibility for their current trouble would have fallen completely on his shoulders, if it had been the truth. "And you figured riding outta here would make things better for us?"

"It'd sure save Slim some money," Jess answered, his vocal tones quiet with a touch of sadness around the edges. "When I first laid down roots here, I never thought that Slim'd get to be hurting what with an extra mouth to feed, extra bills to pay, and my salary. All things he can't afford. And to top that all off, Slim having to pay my jail fine. As if things couldn't get worse, dad-gum, me lying here all stove in ain't helping things none."

"Now you just quit your fretting," Jonesy said, shaking a finger slightly in Jess' direction. "Don't you know that there're more things important in life than having coins jingling in your pockets? And before you say, 'like what,' I'll answer. Like family."

"But I ain't a Sherman," Jess said, jerking a thumb in his chest.

"Am I?"

"No," Jess answered softly, and looking into Jonesy's wise eyes, he began to figure the direction the older man was going, and it was starting to make sense.

"I'm a Jones, a good friend, but like family, just the same as you."

"Just the same as me," Jess repeated slowly, the light starting to seep into his eyes, but then with a quick shake of his head, the shadows dispelled his dawn. "But I haven't been a part of this life that long. Am I really looked at that way?"

"None of us look to you just like a hired hand, Jess. But let me ask you this, how do you see Slim and Andy?" Jonesy asked, not waiting for Jess to reply to his question, but continued onward as he had a couple of more questions with solid answers to shape together in front of Jess. "Like a boss and the boss' brother? Not at all. As friends, true, but are they only friends? I don't think so, at least not from what I can see." 

"I reckon it's kinda hard to put in words," Jess pulled his gaze up to the ceiling. "But if I saw Slim only as my boss, I woulda left here a long time ago."

"How come?"

"The job ain't what's kept me here," Jess replied thoughtfully, that flicker of light starting to take shape once more. "Oh, the ranch, the land, the house, it's good, but there's more to it than that. It's the family."

"I think you've just solved your own problem," Jonesy said with a light chuckle, "unless there's more that's working around inside of your head than what shows."

"Ain't that enough?"

"Our noggins can be full of surprises," Jonesy tapped his temple twice with his finger, "especially if you get hit up there from time to time."

"Yeah," Jess started to smile, but he didn't let it continue to develop as his mind was drawn back to Slim. "Jonesy, does Slim know I was gonna leave?"

"No," Jonesy shook his head. "He and Andy aren't back yet from visitin'. Likely Mrs. Potts is cooing over how much Andy's grown since the last time she saw him, she was always extra fond of him. She lost a boy that'd be about his age, you know. They'll probably be home soon since sunset is just around the corner. If you want, we can just keep this between you and me."

"Thanks, Jonesy," Jess nodded. "I'd kinda appreciate that. But I can't hide this bump on my head or the smell of the liniment that you put on it. Dad-gum, you were sure right, though. That stuff ain't kind at all to head wounds."

"No," Jonesy laughed, putting the cap back on the liniment as the smell wasn't just permeating the room from what he had doused on the back of Jess' head. "But there's no secret in that blamed wind either. Peels your hide right off if you're in it too long, not to mention what it does to barn doors. Slim'll know it was just a weather related accident, but we know better."

"You're getting ahead of me," Jess said, his head turning to the side as he looked up at Jonesy. "What do we know better?"

"That it wasn't just the wind that put a swift end to your plans," Jonesy answered, his eyes taking on an almost faraway look. "I think fate stopped you from making the wrong decision."

"Fate?"

"Maybe a better description is the Almighty Himself," Jonesy continued, his voice somewhere between a whisper and a tone of awe, "just as He's done before. I don't think I have to give you a list, but you've tried leaving here before. Every single time, something's always stopped you, or at least, brought you right back. Don't you think that there's meaning in there somewhere?"

"Maybe."

"I think there is," Jonesy slowly nodded his head. "You're still here for a reason, Jess. Figuring out that purpose, well, sometimes it just takes a little more time then what we first give it, but it always seems to find a way."

"I reckon I kinda believe that too, but God, fate, or whatever you wanna call it," Jess put a hand on his head, tenderly touching the damp lump, "I just wish it hadn't have hit me so dad-gummed hard."

"Just think of the blow you would've got if you'd succeeded in riding outta here, especially since I think it's not just gonna blow, but snow. Did you see the clouds out west? Turning grayer by the minute." Jonesy patted Jess on the arm and then with a look toward the door, he stood up. "I best go and start to get dinner on. Soup sound all right or are you up to something more solid?"

"Whatever you bring me, I'll eat," Jess replied, the hand being removed from his head to rest on his middle as he already felt empty all the way down to his toes.

"Good," Jonesy laughed, the gentle tone from his throat meeting up with the crunching of the wagon wheels on the frozen ground as Slim and Andy made their return. "It sounds like you're feeling better already, inside and out."

"Yeah," Jess let a small smile touch the corners of his mouth as Jonesy's slow stride began to take him toward the kitchen. Inside and out. The pain in his head would mend, with time and the right medicinal touches, but the pain that had originated on his inside could only mend with something much more enduring. Family, and thankfully, the prescription was right in front of him. And it would be even more literally so a few minutes later, when after Jess heard the kitchen door bang open and shut, it wasn't long before the man that had entered was seeking Jess out.

"Jess?" Slim leaned his head through the bedroom door. "You awake?"

"Yeah," Jess motioned with his hand, "come on in."

"Jonesy said you got hurt," Slim sat down on his bed, his eyes searching Jess from his head to his feet.

"It ain't that bad," Jess shrugged, running a hand over his head. "The liniment stings more than the wound."

"I believe that," Slim smiled, taking an exaggerated sniff over Jess' head. "I could smell it as soon as I came through the door. No one's going to mistake you for a rose any time soon."

"Could they ever?" Jess asked with eyebrow raised, the playfulness sounding in his voice, but not reaching all of the way to his core. He knew he would never be on the same level as something with a lingering, sweet fragrance, but fortunately he wasn't living with a family that expected him to be something that he was not.

"Probably not," Slim chuckled, and then his face took on a more serious expression and Jess began to worry. "Jess, I think we need to talk," Slim began, making Jess rise slightly in his bed. Certainly Jonesy hadn't fully tattled on him. His heart began to beat quicker as he looked up into Slim's sympathetic eyes, not knowing what was coming. "I don't have to show you the numbers to know that we're on the low end of things. I can't buy any presents, and I don't figure that you can buy any either. Jonesy slipped his last few dollars in my pocket for supplies, so I know he won't have anything to wrap either. Even though it's the gifting season, I think it'll be best this year to not swap presents. Is that all right with you?"

"Sure Slim," Jess let an inaudible sigh pass through his lips as he let his head fall back down to the pillow, relieved that Slim's conversation hadn't been about his attempt at leaving.

"What bothers me the most is Andy," Slim looked down at his feet and slowly shook his head. "I was waiting for Nighthawk's sale to buy those boots he's wanted. Ezra Watkins ordered them for me, but if I can't pay for them, he won't hand them over."

"Yeah," Jess answered with a frown. "That man's got about as much heart as a rock does, even at Christmas. But don't worry. Andy's young, Slim, but he ain't a little kid, and he certainly ain't a spoilt one. He's gonna know that this ain't gonna be a Christmas with a bunch of frills everywhere. He'll be disappointed, but he's gonna understand."

"What about you?"

"Me? Disappointed?" Jess put a finger in his chest. "Don't give me another thought. I haven't been given any presents in more years than I can count, so adding one more to the list ain't gonna hurt me none."

"You really have gone without a Christmas present in that long?" Slim asked, his voice softening as did his eyes, watching Jess shrug off his lonely past as if it wasn't a big deal and Slim suddenly wanted to retract what they had decided about not giving any presents.

"You don't miss what you've never had," Jess' answer brought a twinge of sadness to course through Slim's chest. The sensation drew up into his throat where it suddenly turned into a tickle that he couldn't prevent from developing into a large sneeze that would silence any reply Slim would have rather given.

"You're quite the pair," Jonesy entered upon hearing Slim's sneeze, pointing first at Jess and then to Slim. "You with a head pain and you with a head cold. What're you gonna do for an encore?"

"Hopefully nothing," Slim answered, turning to the bedroom door as Andy rushed in. "This has been enough."

"Do you feel any better?" Andy asked, his eyes going back and forth between Slim and Jess.

"Some." The reply came in unison, setting off a roomful of gentle laughter.

That night, Andy stood in front of the calendar, he looked at the meager amount of days left and sighed, crossing off another number, and now there were only five days until Christmas.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Glad we got the tree cut before the snow started falling, or it'd be making puddles all over the floor right about now," Jonesy stepped back, watching as Slim and Jess positioned the tree near the fireplace. "No. It isn't right. Move it a bit closer to the window. That should do it. Wait. Not so close to the wall. Right there. Perfect. Don't you think?"

"I thought it was fine when we first set it down," Jess shrugged, stepping away from the tree to look at it from its wider branches at the bottom to its top that pointed straight up to the ceiling. "Kinda regal looking."

"It'll look even more so when the star gets put on it," Andy said, looking in the box of ornaments that Slim had brought down from the attic. "Here it is. But I'm still not tall enough," Andy stretched up to try to reach the highest point where the gold star would be placed. "Remember Slim, last year you said this year I'd probably be able to reach it myself."

"I remember," Slim smiled, his words from the previous year tickling in his ear, but three-hundred-sixty-some days earlier he'd been joshing with his young brother. Slim picked Andy up so that his hands could reach the top branch and once the younger Sherman's feet were back on the floor, Slim winked, "it's a bigger tree this year."

"I wouldn't be able to reach it either, Andy," Jess held his arm up, showing Andy that he wouldn't have been able to add the star to its top. "You've gotta be a tree to reach a tree. Ain't that right, Slim?"

"Sure," Slim gave Jess a feigned irritated look. "Just don't take an axe to my trunk. Since you have such limitations, how about you decorate the bottom and Andy and I will take care of the top?"

"I wasn't expecting you to hoist me in the air," Jess laughed lightly as he started hanging the assorted colored glass balls on the tree.

When the last decoration was in place, the three adults stood around the tree, enjoying its beauty, but Andy sat down, his legs folding underneath him as he met the ground. He put a hand on the blanket that Jonesy had wrapped around the tree's trunk, tucking in a corner that hadn't needed any tucking, his eyes fixed to the empty space underneath the tree where only a few tree needles had sprinkled the floor. It looked and felt just as barren, and the hollow place inside of Andy's middle told him that it was going to stay that way, even on Christmas morning.

"We're not going to have any presents this year, are we?" Andy asked, trying to not let the disappointment show in his voice, but couldn't get that downward note out of his throat.

"There wasn't much at that first Christmas either, Andy," Slim kneeled down to be by Andy's side and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Imagine, bringing a baby into the world with nothing to lay it in except a manger of hay surrounded by stock animals. Ma put you in a cradle built by Pa's own hands surrounded by those that loved her. But even though at Christ's birth the setting was crude, there was nothing lacking. If our hearts are in the right place this Christmas, we'll see that there's nothing lacking for us, too. We've got each other, and now that Jess and I are back on our feet, we can say we're all healthy. We're plenty warm, we've got food to eat and since Jess is rather handy with his gun, Jonesy's got a big, fat turkey to cook. I know it's not the same as the other years with presents around the tree for everyone, but it'll still be a good Christmas, because we'll have each other."

"That's right, Andy," Jess nodded, as if the addition of Jess' opinion would help soothe Andy's troubled mind. It did. But Slim's statement wasn't just meant for the boy, for hearing Slim include him in the reason why it would be a good Christmas made a throbbing of belonging form in Jess' heart. But even though Jess had reason to find joy, he wasn't a young boy with empty hands. Jess hurt for Andy, and he knew that he wasn't the only one, for it showed even in the way Slim swallowed, trying to smile, as he looked into his young brother's eyes.

"Andy," Jonesy came from the kitchen with a steaming cup in his hand. "There's some hot cocoa on the stove. If you'd like, you can drop some of those marshmallows I made on top."

"Thanks Jonesy," Andy created a small smile as he walked to the kitchen and soon came back with a very full cup with a marshmallow floating on its top.

"Do you think it's too late to hope for a Christmas miracle?" Jonesy asked in a whisper, watching the slumped shoulders of Andy as he stood next to the window looking out into the deepening snow, sipping his cocoa.

"It might be the season of miracles, Jonesy, but Christmas Eve is tomorrow," Jess said with a slight shake of his head.

"Well, I used to believe in Santa Claus," Slim spoke softly, but even in the quieter tone, the faith backing his words was quite clear to discern, "and I thought he was the type for making Christmas dreams come true. But I also believe in what happened in Bethlehem, and I know that Baby in the manger can really make dreams come true, even today. There are still miracles out there, all right, at Christmas and every day in between, but it's out of our hands for one to come true."

…

The snow was swirling in large, tongue-catching flakes, beginning to accumulate more than just a thin layer over everything it touched, with more ready to fall from the sky as the hours progressed. In the post office in Casper, Lee Davies, the tall and lanky lone employee under the head postmaster that had ventured out in the wintry weather stood at the window, watching the ever changing townscape in front of him. He was grateful that he only had to go around the block to get to his home, but he still might have to trudge through the deepening snow if his boss wouldn't put the "CLOSED" sign on the front door anytime soon. Giving a glance over his shoulder at Mr. Pennington, Lee gave a short sigh, for there was still a stack of mail to be sorted, and a very large crate that had been dropped off at the post office only an hour before that had Mr. Pennington's full attention.

"Come over here, Lee. Can you make out what is written on the front of this?" Mr. Pennington asked, tapping his finger on the top of the crate that he bent over. "The print is all smudged and I've been staring at it every which way for the past twenty minutes and still can't put it together."

"Looks like Sher-something," Lee put a finger on the marred letters on the crate. "Definitely an S-H. Sheridan?"

"That's what I first thought, but no one marks the town's location at the top of the package," Mr. Pennington shook his head. "That's where the name goes. There's certainly plenty of letters there, but I can't make hardly any of them out."

"Well, there's a Sherman Relay Station down in Laramie," Lee peered closer, trying to detect any other letters. "Could be for them. Doesn't that part there look like it could say 'relay'?"

"Might be at that," Mr. Pennington gave a short nod, his finger continuing to trace over the illegible portion. "The town's name is completely smeared though, no way to know if it says Laramie. Only thing I know for sure is that it's for Wyoming, as that's the only part that's not too damaged to read."

"It must be for the Sherman Relay Station," Lee gave one last look at the letters and slapped his hand on top of the crate with a joyful nod, not just saying so because he wanted them to finish up for the day and get home before the snow was up to his knees. "Yup, I'm almost certain of it."

"Me too," Mr. Pennington smiled, as he began to carefully remark it, making sure each letter was boldly placed as to avoid any further confusion, saying out loud the words as he rewrote them. "To the Sherman Relay Station, Laramie, Wyoming. That'll do it, Lee. Now get it out in a hurry. By the looks of the weather, the incoming stage will probably be the last one through here in awhile. Since this crate might be full of Christmas presents, it's got to arrive by Christmas Eve in case dear old Santa needs to stuff someone's sock."

With gloved hands and a scarf wound around his neck and on up to his nose, Lee waited under the post office's sloped eaves for the stagecoach's arrival, his last task of the day before he could head home to dry warmth was to get the Sherman's crate on its way to Laramie. A grin that no one could see touched Lee's mouth when the coach finally sped around the corner and with a mighty heave he loaded it in. Not waiting to watch the wheels roll away, but hurrying off to his small apartment, he would never know that the crate's original destination had been much farther north and not on the coach that would now be carrying it southward to Laramie. The first name that had been written on the wood had been addressed for Sherwin and Ruby Stafford, a wealthy rancher's family near the Montana border that didn't really need an extra crate of gifts from old Uncle Ben out in California, as there were already plenty of presents wrapped underneath their stately tree for each member to open up on Christmas morning.

…

Christmas Eve in Laramie could normally have been a festive display of celebration, from the church to the saloon, but on this snowy evening, the shadows of night already falling into place, the streets were becoming quieter than the sound of the snow that was falling. The two buildings with holiday cheer did have a gathering, although certainly smaller than if the day had been sunny and bright, but there was also another that had a collection of gatherers outside its door. George, the stage depot clerk, not known for arm muscle strength, had been struggling to pull a large crate inside of the depot to get it out of the snow had welcomed the abilities of a couple of brawny Laramie men to assist him.

"This crate's for the Sherman ranch," George said, pulling his woolen hat down over his ears. "I don't know how we're going to get it out there though. The stages are being stopped here in town and not going any further. I'd sure hate for Slim missing out on what might be inside, in case it's something important for Christmas tomorrow."

"I'll take it out," Sum Campbell said, motioning with his gloved hands at the back of his wagon parked nearby. "It's on my way home. We might as well load it on up instead of inside the depot."

"Sure thing, Mr. Campbell," George nodded, folding his arms tight to his chest, done more so in an attempt to allow the huskier men to do the heavy job instead of trying to add warmth to his body. "I'm sure it'll be much appreciated, but what're you doing in town on a snowy Christmas Eve anyway?"

"Playing Santa Claus, what else?" Mr. Campbell laughed. "And before you ask about what I got my boy, no, no, it's for my wife. She had her heart set on a new stove for Christmas, and the only way I could surprise her was by having Mr. Watkins keep it in his storeroom until today. You know how hard it is to keep a secret from your wife."

"Sure do," George grimaced through his nod.

"Well, that'll do it," Mr. Campbell pulled a corner of the tarpaulin that covered his wife's stove over the crate so that both items would be shielded from the weather. "Wish me luck on the roadway, and you have a merry Christmas!"

With the exception of a light glow coming from a bedroom, the windows were dark and the snow was coming down thicker by the minute, so without wanting to delay his journey homeward any longer and worry his wife, Mr. Campbell didn't bother knocking to arouse anyone inside. He lifted the heavy crate out of the back of his wagon and set it against the front door of the Sherman ranch house where it would be out of earth's harsh elements and could be easily discovered in the morning. With a smile on his face knowing that his own family was just a few miles over the ridge, Mr. Campbell drove his team away from the ranch house, where the snow falling throughout the night would make the now visible tracks invisible come morning.

Before the last lamp was blown out, while everyone else was tucked into their warm beds, Andy walked through the dark kitchen to the bedroom, his feet coming to a pause when he heard a strange noise outside. He took a deep breath, a mixture of fear and anticipation tingling in his chest, uncertain if he should run to waken his brother. Andy heard the noise again, his mind running backward in time to a boy that would have been convinced that he knew exactly what he was hearing and the earlier shiver of fear no longer existed. He walked silently to the window, and although the heavy snowfall prevented much visibility, there was a blurry outline of a wagon with something bulky in its back turning the corner, the hooves and wheels brought to silence by the snow underneath it. Running to the bedroom, the excitement ready to be shouted from his tongue, his feet slid to a stop at the end of Slim's bed, for no one else was awake.

Andy's shoulders drooped only for a moment, and then his eyes found the calendar near Jonesy's bed, the last date needing to be marked off, the excitement swelling inside of him as if his age was back in single digits again. He marked out the twenty-fourth with a wide grin, for there were no more days until Christmas. Andy blew out the lamp, his chilled body ready to dive under the warmth of his covers where he didn't expect to sleep even if there was no real promise of presents to be found under the tree in the morning, but the anticipation was there, and if the lamp was still lit, the sparks of it would be seen in his widened eyes. Sleep would claim Andy before the midnight hour chimed on the mantel, as dreams of hope would dance in his head, a place where the memory of the snowy visual would be temporarily placed upon his awakening.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

There was no sunlight on the horizon at dawn, only the brightening of a sparkling white world with more fluffy flakes falling from the sky adding to an already significant total on the ground. The Sherman ranch house sat adorned in a lovely display, the windows frosty on the outside that showed through to the welcoming glow of warmth and family atmosphere that continuously dwelt on its inside. Andy sat against the fireplace wall, a piece of candy stuck in his mouth despite Jonesy's direction to wait until after breakfast was finished to start raiding the candy dishes. He gave a smile to his brother as he walked past him, knowing very well that Slim had seen the sweet that was dissolving on his tongue.

"Jess," Slim's voice came a brief moment before his knuckles wrapped lightly on the shared bedroom door and when he heard the hearty response to enter, Slim stepped inside. "Before we go on for breakfast, I wanted to give you your Christmas present."

"Present?" Giving Slim a confused eyebrow arc, Jess stood up from where he'd been seated on the edge of his bed, stuffing his doubled-up socks into his boots. "But we weren't gonna give each other presents."

"I know," Slim smiled, giving his shoulders a slight shrug, "but I had this one before we lost Nighthawk so despite what we all agreed, I wanted to still give it to you."

"You shoulda sent it back, Slim," Jess shook his head, his mouth displaying the opposite gesture that was on Slim's face, "you coulda used the money to buy something else more important."

"Actually, I didn't spend any money at all."

"Huh?" Jess' puzzled expression matched the tone of his voice. "I don't understand, Slim. What could you possibly get me for nothing?"

"It's really just a piece of paper," Slim answered, watching the confusion work its way across Jess' face, bringing a gentle crinkling to his eyes.

"It ain't me on an old wanted poster is it?" Jess slapped his palm to his thigh. "Dad-gum, Slim, if it is then I'm gonna tear into…"

"It's not a wanted poster," Slim tried not to laugh and then he motioned with his hand to Jess' bunk. "Have a seat Jess and I'll explain."

"You sure are dragging this out," Jess said, reluctantly dropping his backside to his bed as Slim's seat found his own bed as they sat across from one another.

"Just giving you the proper time to unwrap your present, you know, setting the mood for anticipation," Slim widened his smile as he reached in his pocket for a piece of paper. "And here it is. Jess, when I got to thinking about what I could get you for Christmas, I thought you should have more than a shirt, more than a pair of socks, more than a box of bullets for your gun, even though those things could have been considered something useful. I wanted to give more than that. And so, Jess, I give you a name, your name, to be added in a partnership title of this ranch."

"You'd do that, for me?" Jess asked, his voice soft with disbelief as Slim handed the ranch title into his hand.

"Of course I would, and I did," Slim said, pointing to the top of the paper, where it clearly stated underneath Matthew Sherman Jr. and Andrew Sherman, the added name of Jess Harper.

"I don't deserve that title, Slim," Jess shook his head, the paper instantly thrust back in Slim's direction.

"Why not?" Slim raised both eyebrows, not taking the gift back in his hand. "You're a part of this ranch, Jess. Maybe you haven't been here a long time, but you've been here long enough for the ranch to take hold of you and for you to take hold of it. And it has. Both ways. You've sweated over it, fought over it and bled over it. You've saved my life and saved Andy's too. You're more than a ranch hand. You're more than a friend. You're a part of this family. Moreover, you and me, we're partners here. And being a partner to this place, it means that you don't just belong right here on this ranch, but that you've got a stake in it too. This makes it official."

"But Slim," Jess stood up, leaving the paper with his name on his bed as he began to pace back and forth across the room.

"What is it Jess?" Slim asked, the concern edging in the corners of his mouth so that the smile no longer existed. "Does the permanence of the title bother you?"

"No," Jess answered quickly, "it ain't that."

"Then what?" Slim kept his gaze on Jess as he worked his feet from one end of the room to the other. "You work hard here, just as hard as if the ranch was in your name. Now, in part, it can be. This ranch couldn't operate without you, Jess. Not when you've made it like your own."

"Wait, Slim," Jess reseated himself and put up his hand, the pricks of guilt working their way from his neck all the way down his spine. "There's something you gotta know before you go any further. I ain't been honest with you. When I got that bump on my head, it wasn't just because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time when those brutal gusts of wind hit. I was walking in the barn for a purpose and it wasn't for anything good. I was gonna leave, and I wasn't planning on coming back."

"Why?" Slim asked, taken aback, although he shouldn't have been shocked by Jess' admittance. Hadn't he noticed Jess' quiet demeanor? Fire and ice was Jess Harper, not dust and fog.

"Because I figured you'd done paid for enough of my troubles," Jess answered with the obvious note of remorse in his voice, "that I wasn't worth all the money that you've spent, and continue to spend on me."

"I've never put a price on our friendship, Jess," Slim said, the sincerity alive in his voice and shining in his eyes, "and I'm not going to start now."

"I appreciate that Slim, I truly do, but there's a piece of reality that we gotta keep looking at before you go and do anything that's permanent. My mistake with Gary Ellis and spending the night in jail ain't gonna reform me, Slim. I'm still gonna bring problems, and likely costly ones, right to your feet."

"I guess we'll worry about that when the time comes."

"Ain't that time right now?"

"No, Jess, it's not." Slim put his hand on Jess' shoulder. "Sure, we're stuck in a hardship right now, but it's not your fault. Nighthawk was a loss that affected all of us, but you fought harder than I did to try to get him back. And speaking of fighting, what you did to Gary might be all on your head, but bailing you out of jail was my decision. We do things together here, Jess, and in that comes a dependence on each other through the good times and the bad. I'm not worried about the future, because as long as we stay together, if one of us falls then there will always be another to pick us up off the ground."

"I reckon you sure have picked me up before and today you've done it again. So," Jess picked up the folded piece of paper that he'd left on his bed, looking once again at his name below the Sherman brothers' names. "The partnership is real?"

"It sure is, Pard," Slim reached out and firmly shook Jess' hand.

"Thanks, Slim," Jess briefly looked down to his feet. "I'm not really sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Merry Christmas, Jess."

"Merry Christmas, Slim."

"Come on, let's go eat that breakfast that I smell," Slim stood, motioning with his head toward the door, "give us something warm inside of us before we have to face what's outside for us."

"Snow sure piled up overnight," Jonesy said when Slim and Jess stepped out of the bedroom, pretending that he'd been looking out at the deep layer of white that covered everything in sight, and not half-listening to the conversation in the other room, one that made him feel warmer than the sweet rolls that oozed with melted butter and sugar on the table. He was glad that all his eyes were doing was smarting with tears and not actually shedding them, for Jonesy might not have been able to make an excuse for that one. "Makes a man wanna curl up and hibernate."

"To do that, we need to eat first," Slim said with a smile as the full aroma of breakfast hit him squarely in the face and the hunger that went with it in the center of his core.

"Well, come on then, right this way," Jonesy laughed, letting Andy bound ahead of him to the table.

"Hey Slim, did you remember to get the teakettle off the porch before bed last night?"

"No, I forgot," Slim shook his head as he sat down at the table, "well, at least under the porch roof it won't be covered in snow."

"I'll get it," Jess said, opening the front door, but at the sight in front of him, his feet were stilled before he exited, in fact, he couldn't have exited if he'd wanted to, unless he would have leapt over a large crate with Sherman Relay Station scrawled boldly across the front of it. "Dad-gum, Slim, come take a look at this!"

"What is it?"

"I dunno," Jess answered, opening the door wide enough so that the others could see it, "but it's big and it's got the Sherman name on it so it must be for us. Help me bring it in."

"Well, what do you know," Jonesy beamed as Slim and Jess hauled in the boldly marked crate and set it near the Christmas tree. "Someone out there was thinking about us after all."

"Open it up, Slim," Andy said eagerly, feeling the normal emotions that were supposed to exist on Christmas morning coming alive inside of him. "Let's see what's inside."

"Bring me the hammer, Andy," Slim instructed, waiting only a few moments as Andy bounded into the bedroom to grab Jonesy's hammer and run back again. With a few stout taps and a couple of hard jerks, the top of the crate popped open, and all four faces leaned over the edge to peer inside.

"Dad-gum," Jess said at the same time that Slim whistled. "It looks like a whole store's been stuffed inside."

"At least a good part of it, anyway," Slim said, pulling out a brown winter's jacket and holding it up to his tall frame. "Looks about right."

"Put it on, Slim," Jess said, barely glancing upward at his partner as Slim's long arms slid inside the jacket that perfectly wrapped around his tall frame, as Jess' hands went inside the crate, pulling out an additionally wrapped box with a black hat inside. "Fancy," Jess dropped the hat on his head, tugging the rim slightly down over his eyes, the shiny silver band glistening in the firelight. "Just what I need for all those hoe-downs Laramie likes to throw."

"Boots!" Andy exclaimed, the joy not just bubbling from his mouth but his entire being as the hat box now removed revealed the preferred cowboy's footwear. "They're almost identical to yours, Jess! Do you think they'll fit?" Andy carried the boots to the closest chair and removing the ones that were already on his feet off in two swift shakes, he slid his feet into the shiny black pair and began to run around the room, his feet feeling as if the boots had been made especially for him. "They do! Look Slim, Jess! They fit!"

"That's wonderful, Andy," Slim bent over the crate when his eye caught something shiny in the bottom, "and look, there's a pair of spurs to go with them."

"I can't believe it," Andy took the spurs out of Slim's hands, his body finding his brother's embrace even though he knew that Slim had not played any role in giving them to him. "This is the best Christmas present I could have ever asked for!"

"I'm so glad that you got what you truly wanted, Andy," Slim smiled, patting Andy on the back. "What else is in there, Jess?"

"A stack of jeans, but I might be a little outta luck with them, 'cause they look like they're more for a man with your height," Jess said, unfolding the pair of jeans on top, the bottoms spilling down past his toes.

"Don't worry, Jess," Slim laughed, "as an added Christmas bonus, you can meet up with the seamstress in Laramie. I'm sure she'd love to have you as a customer, especially when it comes time for the fitting."

"Very funny," Jess shook his head, trying not to smile. "I'll stick with stumbling over the hems. Less heartache."

"I can mend them up for you, Jess," Jonesy nodded, but his attention was diverted back to the crate as Jess pulled out the last pair of jeans from its stack. "Look at this, I needed a bigger kettle! It'll be perfect for when I make those extra large batches of mulligan."

"If that's all that you'll use it for," Jess touched the back of his head and gave Jonesy a wink. "I was afraid you were gonna say you'd use it for larger batches of liniment."

"That too!" Jonesy laughed, the pot going to the floor, almost forgotten as his hands pulled out something warm for his feet. "Slippers! Gracious me, my feet will think they're nestled on clouds, that is, if they fit."

"Do they, Jonesy?" Andy asked, lifting out a bag of peppermint sticks that he promptly chomped one in half with his teeth.

"They do, at that!"

"Where do you think all of this came from?" Slim asked when the crate was emptied, searching everywhere on the outer sides for its place of origin. "I don't see anything on it except for our address."

"I know where it came from," Andy said, pushing the peppermint to the side of his mouth so he could talk, the memory in the night swiftly returning to tap on his shoulder, no longer believing it was only a dream. "Before I got in bed last night I heard a noise and when I looked out the window, I saw a wagon with something heaped up in the back. It must've left it here."

"A wagon?" Slim asked, giving Jess a sideways glance, receiving a shrug from his partner in response before turning his eyes back to Andy. "Who was driving it?"

"I couldn't see anyone," Andy answered, hurrying to the window, the image in the snowy shadows taking shape once more before him. "But it was right there, honest."

"I don't doubt you Andy," Slim said, stepping closer to his brother so he could put a hand on his shoulder. "After all, this crate couldn't have just up and walked here. Someone must have brought it to us."

"But who?" Andy looked up at his brother with wondering eyes. "Who do we thank?"

"Well, Slim, didn't you say the other day that you believe in Christmas miracles?" Jonesy smiled, holding his hands out to the bounty that was around them. "It looks like we more than got one, all right."

"Yeah," Slim nodded, wrapping his arm around Andy's shoulders, "but I believe more in those that can make them happen. It's not hard to give thanks, Andy. Just look up. Your heart will take care of the rest."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"Breakfast has probably long grown cold," Jonesy said with a motion toward the kitchen, "but we better eat it anyway."

"I'd eat it if we were out on the trail and it won't be as cold as if I were somewhere out there huddled up, so I won't be complaining," Jess sat down at the table, adding two sweet rolls to an already full plate. "As long as the coffee's hot," the cup was brought to his lips and he gave a nod of approval. "It don't burn, but it's still got some steam."

"I think the only complaint you have about food is when there ain't any," Jonesy smiled at Jess, but then his face could beam at Slim and Andy, too, for they soon began polishing off their plates without any grumbling.

"You hear something?" Jess asked, turning his head toward the door, but unable to not finish the last bite of his sweet roll before standing up to allow his ears to fully take over on the nearly inaudible subject outdoors.

"No," Slim shook his head, his eyes on Jess, knowing that his partner was always alert to even the slightest abnormal noise. "What'd it sound like?"

"I dunno," Jess shrugged, the final mouthful now swallowed, he barely breathed, trying to identify whatever was stirring outside in the snow. "There it is again."

"I heard it too," Slim was suddenly by Jess' side, both men leaning toward the window.

"I can't hear anything," Jonesy wiggled a finger in his ear as he stepped away from his seat at the table. "You two care to share what it is that you're hearing? I hope it's not sleigh bells. Surely Santa Claus ain't on his way back here to tell us he made a mistake with that crate."

"It's a horse," Slim answered, his eyes searching the white world for where the sound was coming from, but nothing marred the normal snowy landscape.

"A horse?" Jonesy shuddered, trying to peer over Slim's shoulder as he put his hand on Andy's back. "It better not be those thieves making a return."

"On Christmas day?" Andy asked, the beginning notes of a quiver sounding in his voice.

"Outlaws never take a holiday, Andy. Sometimes it only gets worse, 'cause they like to be ornery on special days, just outta spite." Jonesy felt the tremble under his hand and he pulled Andy closer to his side. "Don't worry, though, that snow'll make the perfect backdrop. No one could hide in that."

"What do you make of it, Slim?" Jess asked, the sound growing silent again.

"I don't know," Slim answered, his eyes roaming back and forth over the white landscape, "but we probably should go out and take a look around."

"Not like that you're not," Jonesy said sternly. "Remember what happened last time you went gallivanting around in the cold with nothing warm on!"

"I'm not in my underwear now," Slim smiled, his feet taking the first steps to the door. "Come on Jess, it's getting louder."

"You two get back in here," Jonesy said, but they were already through the front door, and suddenly Jess started to run.

"Slim, look!" Jess exclaimed with excitement, and now Jonesy and Andy's feet were exiting into the snow without proper covering on too.

"It's Nighthawk!" Slim's shout echoed off the hill and back with jubilant force. "What's he doing back here?"

"He musta ran free from those that took him and came on home," Jess slowed his steps as he neared Nighthawk, reaching out to the once wild animal, being allowed a friendly rub up the horse's nose. "Ain't it something, he's still friendly with me."

"And if he's friendly with us, he could be with someone else. What do you think Jess?" Slim looked up at the sky as the snowflakes were beginning to dwindle. "Can we still make a Christmas wish come true?"

"One was done for us," Jess smiled, continuing to show Nighthawk his affection, "we better extend it to someone else. I'll saddle him up."

"Wait, Jess," Slim turned to look at Jonesy and Andy standing behind him in the snow. "Let's all go together. I'll get the sled out and after we deliver Nighthawk to his new home, we can sleigh ride our way home."

"Sounds good to me," Jess gave a nod, his feet making deep imprints in the snow as he walked to the barn.

"Just make sure that you don't speed us so fast that we go and tip over," Jonesy said, hurrying Andy along ahead of him to start gathering the coats and blankets that they needed. "We'll go get some layers for us all. Be back right quick."

Jess blazed the trail through the snow, leading the way along the roadway to the Murray's ranch. The bells that Slim tied to the sleigh jingled joyfully around every bend, the noise greeting the family before their true arrival, bringing everyone out of the house in excitement to see Jess riding the majestic horse through the snow. When they halted, Slim slid out from underneath the blanket that had wrapped him and led Nighthawk to his new owner as Jess hopped to the ground, the necessary exchange only taking a few minutes before Nighthawk was now being paraded into the barn with cheerful shouts.

"He gave it all to us," Slim smiled, displaying the folded bills in his hand for everyone to see as he returned to their sled. "I told Mr. Murray to pay less since we delivered late, but he insisted on the full amount."

"This really is a merry Christmas!" Jonesy grinned, wrapping an arm around Andy's shoulder.

"It sure is. Climb on in, Jess," Slim motioned with his hand when he sat down, immediately getting the blanket wrapped around his legs by Jonesy's hands, receiving a blended expression of sternness and fear from the older man's face as he continued, "and hang on, we're going off road to take on the hills full force."

"Now you're talking!" Jess whooped, giving the horse that pulled the sled extra incentive to leap forward.

"If you two dump me off, I'm gonna not just put liniment in your coffee, but I'll pour it in the mulligan too!" Jonesy put his hand on his head to keep his hat from flying off as Andy burst out into laughter beside him.

"If that's what it takes to make it edible," Slim teased, his mouth creating a noise to encourage the horse to run. "Get up there, boy. Let's see how much fun snow really can be!"

"Like this?" Andy wrapped his hand around a ball of snow that landed in his lap from the bits that flew up from the horse's hooves, and swiftly dropped it down Slim's coat collar.

"Ow, Andy," Slim laughed, moving his head to the side as the icy wetness dripped down his neck, "not while I'm driving."

"Don't listen to him, Andy," Jess gave Andy a wink, his hands reaching out of the sled to gather up a mound of snow. "Slim'll only have a problem if he can't keep his eyes open."

"Jess!" Slim hollered as the wad of snow was promptly thrust into his face.

"Oh, I see what you mean," Andy giggled, his own hands being refilled with snow, faking his movement to make Jess think that Slim was about to get pummeled twice, but then Andy quickly turned and landed the snow over Jess' eyes.

"Dad-gum!" Jess wiped his face with his sleeve, his lashes blinking away the extra drips of moisture. "You fight dirty!"

"I guess I learned from the best," Andy smiled, receiving a hug as Jess pulled him close to his chest, but upon his release, Andy's face contorted as Jess lifted Andy's hat and put a handful of snow on his head.

"Take the reins, Jonesy," Slim said, handing the driving duties over to Jonesy so he could properly fight back.

"With pleasure," Jonesy shuddered, letting one gloved hand form a point behind them at the hill they'd just cascaded down. "I think I left my heart and my stomach back up there on that one, what with the way you were taking us blindly down the mountainside."

"Get him, Andy," Jess shouted into the wind, "he's fair game now!"

"Yes!" The laughter of a boy lifted to the gray clouds and swirled back around them, joining in with two similar voices of joviality as snow was pelted from once face to another, but it wasn't long into the battle that things began to swing in an outmatched direction.

"All right, all right," Slim put his hand on Jess' arm, making him fling the remainder of snow back onto the ground where it belonged. "I give up. I can't beat two professional snow-slingers like you."

"Is it over?" Jonesy asked, nudging his hat up slightly with a fingertip. "With all that snow you were dumping everywhere, it's a wonder I haven't turned into an iceberg."

"We're finished," Jess said, his voice still ringing with laughter. "Slim called truce."

"Yeah," Jonesy shrugged, casting a slight glance to the trio beside him, "but for how long?"

"At least until we get home," Andy ducked as Slim brought his hand down on top of Andy's hat.

"You can go at it all you want while I'm cooking dinner," Jonesy said, grimacing at the thought of the battle that could soon ensue once they arrived home.

"There's certainly no shortage of ammunition for our shotguns," Jess held his arms out in front of him and clenched both hands together. "But I gotta save strength so I can be able to eat that dinner you're cooking."

"You don't have any shortage of that either," Slim said, leaning hard to the right to avoid a snowball that Jess hurtled in Slim's direction.

"Wait for home, remember? I think we need a different type of cooling off instead," Jonesy said, keeping his eyes on the horse in front of him. "One that'll set the mood for the rest of the trip home."

"What's that, Jonesy?" Andy asked, his puzzled expression being shared by the two other men beside him.

"Singing."

"Out here?" Andy shook his head back and forth as his hands spread wide. "But we don't have the piano."

"Oh well," Jonesy shrugged, giving Andy a sideways glance before continuing. "We didn't have one before Jess came to live with us either, so I suppose he ain't gonna notice how out of tune we'll be."

"We?" Slim and Jess spoke the singular word together, exchanging eyebrow raised glances.

"Sure," Jonesy nodded. "We're all merry and bright, aren't we? Speaking of merry, that reminds me of my song. You boys have been listening to me ironing it out since the first of the month, so I'm sure you've all got it memorized right along with me. Let's give it a go together. No hold outs now, I wanna hear every voice raised high!"

_Merry me, merry me, it's Christmas in Laramie,  
The countryside's covered in snow,  
I'll give you a present and you'll give me one too,  
All tied with a pretty bow – oh  
I'll be so happy, to have you beside me,  
Promise it'll always be so,  
We'll finally find that our dreams really came true,  
Yes, it's a merry me, merry you, it's Christmas in Laramie too._

He led the tune, but as Jonesy instructed, there wasn't a voice beside him that was silenced. They sang loud, the melody being complimented by the bells alongside of the sled, their rich tones ranging from young to old blending together not in perfect pitched harmony, but in perfectly harmonized hearts. Perhaps it was Jess' smile that was the largest, although each face was painted with a wide grin, for his feet had almost led him astray once more, but fate, God, or whatever he'd want to call it, had already decided that this was where Jess belonged. It was a merry me, it was a merry Jess, and it was a merry Christmas, too.

"This really has been the best Christmas ever!" Andy said, being enveloped in a dual hug, with Slim on one side and Jess on the other, the same sentiment echoing from each of their lips, but also shining with flickers of light in their eyes.

"And it'll only continue," Jonesy smiled, the sled turning its last corner, dipping down to where the ranch house sat in a warm display, welcoming them all back home. "Merry Christmas and God bless us, everyone."

…

I wish I could truly give Hoagy Carmichael the credit that's due him as I borrowed his "Marry Me in Laramie" tune and turned it into a song for Christmas. I hope that, like me as I wrote it and read it over again, that you can hear the music of his creation in your head too. With much talent in his craft to bless us Laramie fans with a song that will last forever, I dedicate this Christmas version to Hoagy Carmichael and offer my thanks and appreciation for what he gave us.

Merry Christmas to all of my readers! I am truly grateful to each and every one of you and from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your support throughout all of the Slim and Jess adventures (some rather harrowing!) that I've brought here. I hope there will be many more stories to share with you in this coming year. Have a blessed and most beautiful Holiday surrounded by those that you love, and I know that includes Slim and Jess too. – Calico West


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